Into the Breach
by Disciple of Ember
Summary: Ib lives a happy life with her parents and adopted sister Mary, but her dreams have been plagued by a man in a blue jacket. A man who seems all too familiar. When she returns to the gallery in search of answers, she and Mary will be dragged back into the world they fought to escape from. A world that is now under the control of phantom wearing the face of a friend.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ib or any of the characters used in this story.**

* * *

"_If only two of us could leave this place, who would you choose?"_

_It was the last thing Ib expected her blonde friend to ask when she stopped in the hallway. Such a dark question seemed to have no place being uttered by the sunny girl in front of her. It was not born of simple curiosity either. Ib could tell from the intensity of Mary's gaze that she expected a truthful answer. She faltered under that gaze, after all how could she possibly be expected to choose between the two friends she had found?_

_In the end it didn't matter. Her choice had been made for her by the very person who asked the question to begin with._

"_Loves me…"_

_She could feel something in her die as the man in blue slumped to the floor beside her._

"_Loves me not…"_

_She begged and pleaded with him to stay awake, to stay and not abandon her to the nightmare world they had fought against for so long._

"_Loves me…"_

_He had tried to comfort her with words of encouragement, telling her that he would catch up with her soon enough. She clung to those words no matter how hollow they were._

"_Loves me not…"_

_As he faded away she had no choice but to leave him behind. Tears blinding her eyes Ib ran down the twisting hallways away from Garry._

"_Loves me…"_

_Away from the best friend she had ever had._

* * *

With a start Ib awoke in her room with her heart racing and a cold sweat covering every inch of her body. For a moment she simply sat there enduring the aftereffects of the nightmare. After a few minutes she calmed down enough to try and recall the images of the dream that left such a drastic impact on her. She knew it was pointless to try and remember, this was just the most recent in a long line of nightmares she had suffered from since the age of nine. It would always leave her shuddering in the dark with only the faintest recognition of a man in a blue jacket.

Sighing in frustration Ib slid off the bed and checked the clock. _5:00 huh?_ She thought to herself. It was still too early for the rest of her family to be up, but Ib simply couldn't stand the idea of being subjected to another nightmare in such a short time.

Working her way over to the closet she quickly got dressed in her favorite white and red outfit. After making her bed she headed downstairs to make some breakfast. _I don't want to lie to you… but I also don't want to tell you the truth._ Stopping at the entrance to the kitchen Ib stood motionless, trying to grasp the thread of memory that had blown by her. The effort was as futile as it had always been, and simply left her with a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. _I wish these dreams would stop taunting me already, or at the very least start to make sense._ She thought as she made her way to the stove. _Isn't nine years long enough to suffer through something like this?_ As she stood in front of the stove debating whether or not a cooked meal was worth the effort, she heard footsteps entering the kitchen behind her.

"Ib, what are you doing up so early?" Turning, Ib came face to face with her adopted sister Mary. "Oh nothing, I just had a bit of a bad dream. I figured I might as well come down and get something to eat if I'm not going to be sleeping." Ib said with a tired smile. She didn't want to go into too much detail about the dream. She knew that if Mary found out it was her reoccurring nightmare again she would start worrying, and the last thing Ib wanted was to make her sister worry.

"Anyway, what are _you _doing up so early? Weren't you complaining a little while ago that you didn't get enough sleep?" Mary just laughed and dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand. "That was when school was in session; right now I want to get as much out of this vacation as possible." Ib couldn't help but smile at Mary's attitude. No matter what was going on she always seemed to find a way to make the most of it, as if each experience was something new and exciting instead of boring and ordinary.

"Well how about we start today by deciding what to have for breakfast, I was planning on having some cold cereal unless you have another idea." Mary stood contemplating for a moment before letting out a gasp and clapping her hands together. "I have a great idea! How about we make pancakes for everyone?" Raising an eyebrow Ib replied "Uh, Mary? I don't know how to make pancakes, do you?" Mary simple shook her head, the smile never leaving her face. "Of course not, but how hard could it be?"

* * *

Two hours, an ungodly mess, some muffled cursing, and some _not_-so-muffled cursing later and the two were serving their parents what a generous observer might describe as vaguely pancake-shaped piles of dough.

"Eh, thank you girls." Their mother said doing her best to maintain a smile. "But you didn't need to go through all this trouble just to make us breakfast." Ib sat down and began to work on cutting into her portion. "It's not a problem" she said "I was already up and we decided to do something useful while waiting for everyone else." She ventured a look at the disaster zone over her shoulder. "And don't worry we'll clean up after our selves before we leave." Mary for her part was engaged in a massive struggle with the tough piece of dough she was chewing and could only manage a nod and a muffled "mmph" in response to Ib's promise.

"Say Ib" their father said drawing attention away from the fact that his pancake had mysteriously vanished. "Have you given any thought to what you want to do for your birthday later this week?"

In all honesty Ib had given very little thought to what she wanted to do for her birthday. A party didn't really interest her all that much, due in no small part to the fact that, other than Mary, she only had a few people she saw as friends.

"Not yet, but I'll let you know when I think of something." She replied. Her father stood up and gave her a pat on the back. "All right but don't keep us waiting too long, it's not every day that you turn eighteen." He said bringing his dishes to the sink. "Hey, if you can't think of anything I can help you decide." Mary said, her eyes shining with the number of possibilities they saw. Ib had to suppress a shudder, she loved her sister but sometimes Mary's 'suggestions' made the term overboard seem too tame.

"T-that's all right, I'm sure I'll figure something out." Ib said quickly. "In the meantime how about we get started on cleaning the kitchen before some of this stuff starts crawling around on its own."

* * *

In a dark room he sat, observing the paintings that surrounded him. _It's almost time. _He thought to himself, feeling the thrill of anticipation work its way up his spine. _Almost time for their return. _A feral grin spread across his face as he imagined his plans being set into motion. Turning his attention to the creatures behind him he spoke, his voice echoing all around the darkened room. "Go! Make yourselves ready. It is time for us to welcome back some old friends and escape this hell once and for all."

He turned back to the paintings in front of him as his minions walked, dragged, and crawled their way forward to obey his commands. There he sat with dark images playing their way through his head. _Ib, Mary, I'll be seeing you both very soon. You can count on that._

* * *

**Disciple of ember here, and I would like to thank those who took the time to read this story. This is my first story up on Fanfiction/net so comments and criticisms are welcomed.  
**

**Currently I am in school so updates to the story may be sporadic at times, but to anyone who is interested rest assured that I will be following through in keeping it going. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Looking back on the first chapter I think it may have been a bit too clinical. I'll work on improving that in future updates.  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters. **

* * *

_Ib stood there alone in the gallery. Everything she felt was obscured by an almost unnatural calm. She didn't know how she came to be there, or where everyone else was, but she knew that it held the answers that she had been looking for since the day the dreams began. _

_As Ib walked down the dreary halls she felt the presence of the memories that lay buried in her mind, but each time she tried to claim them they would flee back into her subconscious. Each turn brought a new sensation; each hallway pushed her forward towards a goal that her waking mind couldn't understand. She couldn't tell how long she had been walking for but after her steps took her around the next corner Ib knew she had arrived. _

_In front of her was a single massive painting that pulled her in as though by some invisible magnetic force. As Ib drew closer she could feel her heart beat faster like a bird trying to break free from its cage. Something told her that this painting was the key to what she was trying to remember._

_A few more steps and she was standing directly in front of it, less than an arm's reach away. Underneath the painting was a small inscription. '********** World'. Ib frowned as she read the name. For some reason the first word was blurred and unreadable. _

"_It says Fabricated World." Jumping at the sound of the voice she whirled around and came face to face with its source. Standing next to her was a man with purple hair, dressed in a blue jacket. For a moment Ib could only stare. She could feel the memories of this man straining against the walls of her mind, struggling to break the surface._

_Feeling a strange sensation on her cheek, Ib raised a hand and was surprised to find a stream of tears running down her face. She continued to stare at him, fearing that if she looked away for even a second, he may vanish. Cautiously, she stepped closer to the man and reached out towards him in an attempt to confirm his existence, but something caused her to jerk back at the last second. _

_It was then that she looked at his face. _

_The few faded memories she had of this man were always filled with comfort and joy. A warm smile, a friendly word, a promise that everything would be all right. When she looked at his face however, there was not even the slightest hint of those times. The smile on his face was as cold as ice, and his eyes held all the comfort and understanding of a viper watching a rabbit. _

_Ib stood transfixed by that gaze. Try as she might she couldn't tear her eyes away from it. "I know what you're looking for Ib." He said as he closed the distance between them. "You want to remember don't you?" She could only tremble as he placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to speak into her ear. "Come back to us Ib. Come back to the gallery."_

As Ib woke with a start for the second time in just as many days she heard those last words echoing throughout her head. _"Come back to the gallery."_ That command, issued by the man she could _almost_ remember seemed to ingrain itself in her mind even as the other details of the dream faded away.

She sat there silently as hope and fear coursed through her veins. After all this time she had a sign, something that could unlock the memories she had so desperately tried to reclaim. This was her chance.

She could remember.

….

Did she still want to remember?

Her breath hitched as she recalled the feeling that man had given her. The sheer _wrongness_ of him, as though some treasured memory had been twisted into something terrifying. Her hands curled into fists, squeezing her sheets in frustration as the images of their meeting drifted into obscurity.

Ib wrapped her blanket tightly around her body in an attempt to stave off the cold feeling that she was enduring. Taking a deep breath she steeled her resolve. _If that's what it takes to make sense of what's been happening to me_ she thought. _Then that's what I'll do._

For better or for worse, Ib was going back to the gallery.

* * *

Mary sat in the living room humming a tune to herself as she debated what type of card to get for her sister's birthday. "What do you think?" She asked turning to the stuffed pink bunny next to her. "Would she like a serious card or a funny one?"

She didn't expect the doll to respond the way the ones in her old home had, but old habits die hard. Especially when you have upwards of a century to develop them.

Mary giggled as she scratched her toy behind the ears. "Aww don't say that, it's not like she doesn't have a sense of humor. She just has a hard time expressing it." She tapped her chin thoughtfully for a moment before letting out a gasp and turning to face her silent companion. "I've got it!" She exclaimed. "How about the musical card that I saw at the store yesterday? The one about the rose garden? That one would be _perfect_!"

She was so excited by the thought of her chosen card that she didn't notice Ib until the red eyed girl took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. "Ah, Ib!" She shouted in surprise. "Uh j-just pretend you didn't hear that ok? You're not allowed to know what I'm getting you for another four days."

Fortunately for Mary the other girl appeared entirely oblivious both to her initial remark and to the disturbance she caused. "Ib?" Mary ventured. "Are you all right?" Still getting no response she leaned across the couch and resorted to waving her hand in front of Ib's face.

"Wha-huh?" Ib said, shaking her head to dispel the daze she had been in. "Oh sorry Mary I didn't notice you there." Mary just raised an eyebrow. "What was that about?" She asked. "Well…" Ib began. "I've been giving some thought to what I want to do for my birthday, and I think I have it settled." Mary jumped to her feet and ran in front of her sister, causing Ib to shrink back at the sudden invasion of personal space. "That's great!" She shouted. "What is it!? Oh you have to tell me! No, wait don't tell me, let me guess. Is it a water park? No, a theme park? No, no, no, wait, is it a trip to Paris!?"

Ib held up her hands in an attempt to stop the barrage of questions. "Whoa, hold on a second. Calm down Mary it's not anything like that." Mary's shoulders slumped slightly but her spirits remained high. "Do you remember that art gallery we went to when we were nine? The one featuring Geurtena's artwork?"

It took every ounce of self-control Mary had to keep the smile up on her face. "Yeah of course I remember. What does that have to do with your birthday?" She ventured. "I've been thinking…" Ib began. "I've been thinking that maybe we should go back there, you know, for old time's sake."

For a moment Mary simply stood there. Surely she had misheard. There is no way that her sister would just suddenly suggest such a thing. That hope was dashed as the moment stretched on and she realized that it was exactly what Ib had Just said.

"Mary, what's wrong?" Ib asked, her thoughtful expression turning to one of concern. "Mary, you're shaking." With a supreme effort of will Mary stilled the tremors that were threatening to knock her off her feet.

"I-I'm fine Ib." She assured quickly. "But why would you want to go back to _that_ place for? Y-you already saw all the exhibits didn't you?" Try as she might Mary couldn't prevent the pleading tone from entering her voice. "To be honest I'm not entirely sure why, but I keep getting this feeling that I need to go back." Ib told her, putting a hand on Mary's shoulder to help steady her. "Are you sure you're all right? You look really pale."

"Y-yeah, I'm f-fine…" Mary stammered as she pulled back from the offered hand. "I… Uh, I-I need to… go do something!" Without another word she turned and ran despite the cry of protest from Ib. Dashing through the hallway, she ran up the stairs to her room and quickly closed the door behind her.

Slumping against the wall on the opposite side of the room, Mary desperately tried to get her emotions under control. She felt as though the floor had suddenly opened up, dropping her straight back to that… that _hell_.

Even after nine years of being free from that place, even after nine years of being _alive_, the terror of being forced back there was still a nightmare she didn't ever want to think about. There was no way Ib could know of course, her memory of the Fabricated World had disappeared when she left it. Even so, Mary couldn't help but feel a sickening weight settle in her stomach at the mere thought of her former prison.

As she struggled to get her breathing under control, a knock came at the door. "Just a second!" She said quickly as she wiped away the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. "Come in." After a second her door opened up to reveal a very worried looking Ib. "Mary? What happened? What's wrong?"

Taking a seat on her bed Mary did her best to offer a reassuring smile. "Nothing's wrong, really, don't worry about it." Even to her the words sounded hollow and empty. Taking a seat next to her Ib once again placed a hand on Mary's shoulder. "Mary please tell me what's wrong. I thought you would have liked going back to the gallery. You were so happy the last time we were there."

She _had_ been happy the last time they had been there, but not for the reasons Ib thought. It had been her first taste of a family. Her first taste of what it was to be human.

Mary didn't know what to do. If she flat out refused to go, then Ib would want an explanation. Even if she did come up with something believable, the whole issue might cause her to remember something of the Fabricated World. And if that happened…

No, Mary wouldn't let that happen. Her only real option was to go to the gallery and try to prevent Ib from seeing anything that might stir up any buried memories. Even so, the fear of what could happen was inescapable.

"Ib, what would you think of me if I had done something bad?" Mary questioned, unable to keep the thought to herself. "Bad? What do you mean bad?" Ib asked. _Damn it, why did you have to go and ask that!_ Mary silently cursed herself, but it was too late to take the question back. Her body once again began to shake with dread at the thought of the dangerous ground she was treading.

Taking a deep breath Mary said "something really bad. Something I couldn't tell you about. Something you would hate me for." Ib sat for a moment before leaning forward and wrapping her arms around her trembling sister. "Mary I could never hate you, you know that." Pulling back she offered a smile. "Together forever remember?"

_Together forever_

It was a promise the two of them had made when they were both young. It was something Mary desperately wanted to be true, more than anything else in the world. As if those two words could forgive any wrong. As if they could wash away the blood that had been spilled.

"Yeah…" She said wistfully, a small smile on her face. "I remember." Ib sat for another minute, gently massaging Mary's shoulder. "Whatever's wrong, you can tell me when you're ready. I promise we'll find a way to work it out." Mary gave a murmur of gratitude in response. "Thank you Ib. I'll… I'll tell you about it sometime, but right now… I just can't."

Giving Mary's shoulder one last squeeze, Ib stood up and made her way to the door. "Whenever you're ready." She said with a reassuring smile. As Ib left, the cold sense of despair returned just as strong as before. Mary curled up on her bed with a whimper, and sent out a prayer to whatever deity might be listening.

_Please! Don't let anything happen._

_Don't let her remember!_


	3. Chapter 3

**I would like to say a big thank you to everyone who reviewed, I'm glad you guys like the story and I'll do my best to keep improving it as I go along.**

**Now onto chapter three, also known as 'the chapter where stuff actually happens.'**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters **

* * *

For Ib and Mary the next few days passed in a blur. Both of them had their sights set on one day in particular, but for very different reasons. For one it was the promise of an answer that would help her make sense of her dreams. For the other it was the very manifestation of her worst nightmares.

Before either of them were truly ready to face it, the day had arrived.

* * *

"Ready to go girls?" Mary jumped slightly at the sound of their mother's voice calling from downstairs. "Yea mom, we'll be right there." She heard Ib call back. Mary turned her attention back to rifling through her drawers, but didn't get very far when a knock came at her door. "Hey Mary, are you ready?" Ib asked from outside Mary's room. "I'll be down in a second." She said. "I just need to find something."

Mary waited for at least ten seconds after hearing Ib leave before she returned to the task in front of her. _Where is it?_ She knew that it was here somewhere, she had made sure to hide it away in case of an emergency. Reaching into the back of her drawer she felt her hand brush against the object she had been searching for. Mary let out a small gasp she closed her fingers around its wooden handle. Slowly, almost reverently, she drew it forward and into view of the world for the first time in nine years.

Her pallet knife.

The design of the knife was simple enough, but it, like everything else from the gallery, was far more dangerous than it looked. The edge was sharp enough to slice through flesh with ease. The tip was honed to the perfect thickness. It was wide enough to put weight behind a stab, but thin enough to slip between someone's ribs and into the vulnerable organs beneath.

Simply holding it in her hands brought back images that Mary would have preferred to forget. Images of dark hallways, twisted paintings, and above it all; a young girl whose desperation for a chance to escape drove her to kill.

She wanted nothing more than to put it back in the drawer to remain buried indefinitely, but some instinct warned her that she would need it very soon.

Stashing the knife in the sleeve of her green dress, Mary took one last look around her room to ensure she hadn't missed anything important. Once she was satisfied that everything was in order she began the walk to the car where her mother and sister were waiting. It was going to be a _very_ long day.

* * *

Ib sat silently in the back seat of the family car. With their father out picking up a cake for her birthday, it was just her, Mary, and their mother. The car ride to the gallery was far quieter than it had been the first time, and Ib began to wonder if she had made the right decision. Sneaking a glance at Mary she saw that the blonde girl was staring out the window into the distance while unconsciously gripping her arm.

_She knows something._ Ib thought to herself. It had been the only explanation Ib could think of for Mary's breakdown when she had announced her plans. '_What would you think of me…?'_ Ib shuddered slightly at the implications that question had held. What could Mary possibly have done to make her think that Ib would turn on her? And how was it linked to the gallery?

Ib then realized that her mother had been talking. "Oh, sorry what was that mom?" She asked. "I was just saying that I think this was a great idea Ib. Geurtena's work has such a lifelike feel to it." Her mother said smiling at the memory of their last visit. Ib couldn't help but notice how Mary tensed at the word 'lifelike'.

"And there it is." Her mother commented as they pulled into the parking lot. Ib could only stare at the building in wonder. It certainly wasn't the largest or the most vibrant, but it filled her with a sense of nostalgic awe that she could hardly describe.

"Hmm. It's certainly a lot emptier than it was." Her mother mentioned as they entered. "That's fine." Ib said. "Just means we won't have to crowd in with a bunch of people to see the paintings." As they approached the sign in counter Ib noticed Mary standing far closer to her than was strictly necessary with an expression on her face that reminded Ib of a terrified child.

"You girls go on ahead; I can take care of signing us in. Just make sure to stick together." Ib quickly thanked her mother and dragged the reluctant Mary into the pale white hallways of the gallery.

For a good half hour the two of them stalked up and down the exhibits. Each time Ib would stop to observe the paintings, and each time she would feel nothing more than a faint recollection of their past visit. Abyss of the Deep, Death of the Individual, Lady in Red, none of them seemed to do more than catch her attention for a moment. Her frustration only increased as she realized that they were running out of paintings to look at, and she still hadn't found anything.

_Maybe the one I'm looking for is in another section._ She didn't want to think of the possibility that she had been wrong, and this whole ordeal was for nothing. While Ib was trying to decide where to look next she felt a tug on her sleeve. "I-Ib…?" Mary ventured "Could we stop for a second? I r-really need to use the bathroom."

Ib _really_ didn't want to stop now. Not when she still had so many questions unanswered. But she was not cruel enough to force Mary to go on like this. Sighing, she conceded. "All right I think there's a bathroom back this way."

Mary let out a groan of relief as they neared the restroom. "I'll just be a second ok? Wait for me here. Don't wander off!" Ib just nodded as Mary entered. Once she had gone inside Ib turned her attention back to the problem at hand. _Is there a section that we haven't checked yet? Maybe Mary will have an idea. I'll have to ask her when she fin-_ **wait** _MARY!_

Ib had to resist the temptation to smack herself in the face. How had she been so stupid? It was painfully obvious that Mary knew _something_, and yet Ib had been so set on finding the answers that asking her hadn't even crossed her mind. _As soon as she comes out of that bathroom…_ Ib thought to herself. _I'm getting something out of her._

With her goal in mind Ib leaned against the wall in a more comfortable position and waited.

"_Ib…"_

Letting out a yelp, Ib jumped and spun around to see who had snuck up behind her. Disturbingly enough the hallway behind her was totally empty. "Hello?" She called.

"_Ib…"_

There it was again. Try as she might Ib couldn't find the source of the mysterious voice.

"_Come back to us Ib…"_

"Whose there?" she called out, feeling a tingle of fear run up her spine.

"_Come back to the gallery..."_

Ib's breath caught in her throat as she heard those words. The same words that she had heard in the dream that led her here. Her first instinct was to dash towards the voice and find out what this was all about, but her promise to Mary kept her rooted to the spot.

On one hand, the voice was the very thing she had been chasing this entire time. It was so close that Ib could hardly stand it. On the other however, she had told Mary that she would wait for her, and she knew how much Mary hated being alone. When they were young she had refused to be parted from Ib for even a moment. They had done everything together; eating, sleeping, bathing, attending school… Even now Ib knew that being stuck alone was one of Mary's worst fears.

Ib could only stand there as her inner turmoil raged throughout her body. In the end, Ib's need for answers won out. _I'll just be gone for a second._ Ib thought. _Mary probably won't even notice._ Trembling with anticipation, she set off after the voice.

It wasn't long before her mysterious guide led her to a section of the gallery that she hadn't explored yet.

"_Come back to us…"_

Ib could hardly believe her eyes. In front of her was the same painting from her dreams. The Fabricated World. In an almost trance-like state she began to approach the massive image that dominated the wall it had been hung on.

"_Come back to us…"_

Her heart raced a mile a minute as she reached out to touch the surface of the canvas.

"_Come back…"_

Her blood thundered through her veins as a cold sweat broke out on her arms.

"_Come back…"_

"IB!" She jerked back from the painting at the sound of her sister's scream. Turning, she saw Mary standing at the end of the hall with a look of pure horror plastered on her face. Ib opened her mouth to apologize for leaving her at the bathroom. To give some kind of excuse for her sudden departure, but before she could…

The lights began to flicker…

And all hell broke loose.

_If only two of us could leave, who would you choose?_

Ib collapsed as the wave of memories hit her like a freight train.

_You must be another person from the gallery who got trapped here right? You even have a rose just like mine._

Screaming filled the hallway and it took Ib a moment to realize that it was coming from her own mouth.

_I like red, but I like blue even better..._

She desperately clawed at her scalp in an attempt to slow the unrelenting rush of images that had been buried for so long.

_Garry! Please Garry don't go! Don't leave me here alone!_

_Garry!_

_**GARRY!**_

Ib's whole world seemed to collapse. _Garry!_ She had forgotten about Garry. How could she possibly have forgotten about him? He had helped her… fought for her…

Died for her…

"Ib come on we have to leave NOW!" Mary shouted as she grabbed Ib's hand. _Mary!_ The memories of her adopted sister came back to her in a rush. Ib could see the young Mary plucking the blue petals off of Garry's rose. Each one stealing his life away, dragging him down into the cold embrace of death.

Violently, Ib ripped her hand from Mary's grasp. "Ib…?" She gasped. Staggering to her feet Ib took off running. "Ib! Wait!" Terror latched its icy claws into Ib's heart as she ran. She had no idea where she was going, only that it was away from the painted child behind her.

Sprinting through the gallery, Ib rushed past the paintings she had passed on her way in. Risking a look over her shoulder she saw Mary far behind her trying to keep up with her headlong charge. As Ib ran past the Abyss of the Deep something caught her foot and caused her to crash to the ground with a shout of dismay.

Twisting around on the ground Ib caught site of the offending object, and nearly blacked out from the sheer horror of it. Firmly clamped on her ankle was a twisted mass of felt and leather formed into the shape of a human arm sprouting from the Abyss of the Deep. Before she could react the arm began dragging her in.

"NO!" Ib screamed, desperately grabbing at the sleek tiles beneath her in an attempt to escape the yawning maw she was being pulled into. "IB!" She felt a hand latch onto her own as she was dragged onto the edge of the hole. "Hang on!" Mary shouted as she began trying to pull Ib out. Caught in the middle of a life-or-death tug-of-war Ib could do little other than pray Mary was strong enough to save her.

As Mary pulled with all her strength against the twisted parody of a limb, Ib felt as though she was being torn in half. For a brief moment of hope it looked as though Mary might be able to pull her back, but that hope turned to blind panic as the arm from the depths gave one final yank and pulled her out of Mary's grasp and down into the abyss.

* * *

Mary could only stare in disbelief as her sister was dragged away. She knew all too well where the abyss led, and where Ib was going to end up.

Her instincts screamed at her to run, to go back to the painting and escape while she still could. If she went back to the Fabricated World she knew her chances of getting out a second time were all but non-existent.

Even so, there was no way she could leave Ib behind. Mary loved her with all her heart. Her first friend, her first family member. Even after she had fled as though Mary had become evil incarnate she knew that going back without Ib wasn't an option. She was going back together, or not at all.

Taking a shuddering breath to work up her nerve, Mary jumped.

* * *

Shuffling through the dark hallways of its home, a hideous mass of unidentifiable materials worked its way towards the one who had given it life. It shambled into a massive room lined wall to wall with paintings. Each one a different rendition of Geurtena's work.

The creature paid them no mind as it set eyes on its destination. Its master sat on a gilded throne, the only piece of furniture in the entire room. His eyes were fixed on the three paintings directly in front of him.

The beast moved forward until it was directly behind his seat and waited. It knew better than to speak out of turn. After several seconds the seated man gave a single command; "report."

"They… are… here…" The creature rasped with a voice like sandpaper that issued from the slit of its mouth. The man's lips curled up in a mirthless smile.

"Finally**"**

* * *

**For all the Garry fans out there, rest assured that he will be making his entrance in the next chapter. However it probably won't be in the way you might expect.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I was planning on uploading this chapter tomorrow, but I just got caught up it the writing. Anyway, on to the main event.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters**

* * *

Everything hurt. Ib had no idea how long she had been laying on the floor, but working up the energy to even open her eyes seemed to be an impossibility. Her entire body felt like it had been dragged through a field of boulders, and a haze had descended on her mind making thinking difficult.

She would have been perfectly content to lay there until the pain of her battered body went away, but it seemed fate was far too sadistic to allow this. Her quiet suffering was interrupted when she felt someone poke her ribcage, causing a jolt of pain to run through her system.

Groaning, Ib made a feeble attempt to swat away the cold hearted soul that was tormenting her only to have them grab her arm and begin shaking it. "Come on get up already!" She winced as her assailant's voice echoed in her skull. "All right, you asked for it."

Ib had only a moment to contemplate the meaning of those words before the presence unceremoniously slapped her in the face. Jolted out of her haze, Ib's eyes shot open and she came face to face with her less-than-gentle aid. The first thing she noticed was that the dreary walls surrounding her were none other than the ones she had seen in the Fabricated World, and sitting on her chest was one of the dolls from the gallery. The tiny vest it was wearing would have been comical had it not been covering something so creepy. "Geez, took you long enough."

She opened her mouth to shout, but the doll quickly covered it with both of its hands. "NO, no, no, no, no! Don't shout! Are you crazy? They'll hear us." Seeing no other alternative, Ib did the first thing that came to mind and bit down. Hard. "Gah!" The doll cried, recoiling back from her. "Y-you _bit _me!" It accused. "You slapped me." She shot back, glaring at the disturbing toy as she rose into a sitting position.

"Oh sure, that's the thanks I get for helping someone in need. Guess this is the last time I'll make that mistake." The doll said with a wounded expression etched onto its face. "Hurting me is your idea of helping?" Ib asked raising her eyebrow. "I guess that would explain the reception I got from you guys last time."

The doll just rolled its eyes (or it would have if it was physically capable of doing so, instead it rotated its head in a motion that could resemble an eye roll if you squinted a bit.) "Would you prefer if I had left you out for _them_ to find? It asked. "And just who would _they_ be?" Ib questioned. "And while we're on speaking terms, and not 'run around and kill you' terms, why did you guys go through the trouble of bringing me back here? Do you just hate me that much?"

"Hey now," It said holding up its hands "_we _didn't bring you back, _they _did. And if you really want to find out who they are then by all means just wait here until they show up. Personally I wouldn't recommend it." Ib watched the doll carefully for any signs of misleading her but didn't see any indication that it might be lying. "Fine" she conceded, getting to her feet "if meeting them is such a bad idea then I assume we should leave?"

Nodding, the doll replied "yea we definitely don't want to be here much longer. Hold on a second…" Reaching into its tiny vest the doll pulled out a very crumpled up piece of paper and a small pink key. "Here" it said, handing her the items. "This should lead you to a room blocked off by vines. Use the key to get inside; you should be safe there until help arrives." Ib sent the doll a questioning look. "What kind of help would that be? And why aren't you coming along too?" She asked. It just shook its head. "I have to wait here for someone else, and the 'help' would be anyone who isn't too busy fighting for their lives to come get you." Receiving only a blank stare from Ib, it scratched the back of its head and added "listen, I know it's not much to go on but you're going to have to trust me on this. There will be time to explain later. Hopefully."

Not taking her eyes off the doll, Ib unfurled the paper and found it to be a (very) crudely drawn map made up of little more than arrows and 'turn here' signs. "Oh, and you won't want to forget that." It said gesturing at something over her shoulder. Turning around, Ib faced the Item in question and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her.

Sitting on a small table, like a beacon of light in a sea of darkness, was a small vase containing a single red rose.

Stashing the pink key in her pocket, Ib slowly approached the table. Carefully, she reached out and picked up the rose. A wave of sensation assaulted her senses as she turned it over in her hand. "It's the same as last time isn't it…" She wondered out loud.

Her comment earned a laugh from the doll. "Believe me when I say that you had it _easy_ last time. Now get going before something very bad things show up to ruin our day." She just nodded and stuck the rose insider her cardigan where it wouldn't get hurt. Sparing one last glace at the diminutive creature Ib examined the map and started off.

* * *

Walking through the dark hallways of the Fabricated World, Ib couldn't help but notice a distinct lack of things trying to kill her. The first time she had been here every painting was dangerous, every elongated shadow would quite literally leap out at her. Now however, there was only an oppressive silence. The only sound being the smack of her shoes on the floor.

Turning a corner, Ib stopped dead in her tracks at the sight in front of her. Spread out in the hallway she counted the bodies of at least a dozen mannequins. Each one looked like it had been savaged by some kind of wild animal. _What could have done this?_ She silently questioned as a knot of unease settled in her gut. As far as she knew none of the paintings were quite so brutal in their methods.

It was then that she heard the shuffling. Echoing all around her was the sound of something very large dragging itself across the floor. _Damn!_ Ib thought before rapidly scanning the hallway for a place to hide. The last thing she needed right now was to meet one of _them_, whoever they were. Spotting a door several yards away, she darted inside and closed the door behind her.

The room itself had no light, so Ib was stuck in the dark listening to the creature outside draw closer. The shuffling sound stopped for a moment as whatever was outside began shifting one of the dead mannequins. Taking several deep breaths to try and slow her racing heart, Ib cautiously began opening the door just a crack. Just enough to catch a glimpse of what was out there.

She dearly wished she hadn't.

Shoving one of the mannequins out of its way was a monstrous abomination of fabric and cloth. It had been shaped into a vaguely human form, but somewhere along the line its legs had been mutilated beyond repair. The creature's eyes were simply glass orbs that had been placed into its head. It had no mouth or nose to speak of, but Ib could hear it let out muffled grunts as it shoved the obstacles out of its way.

The worst part about it however was its hands. Elongated fingers that curved into vicious claws, each one with a brutal sewing needle stitched into place instead of nails. Ib could hardly believe her eyes. The inhabitants of the gallery had often been twisted and disturbing, but this thing…

It was a monster.

The creature stopped in the hallway, only a few feet from the door she was hiding in. Some sixth sense seemed to alert it to her silent observations. To Ib's horror it turned its glass eyes directly in her direction and let out a hiss.

Deciding that waiting for it to come to her was a bad idea, Ib slammed the door open and sprinted as fast as her legs would carry her away from the nightmare in the hallway. As she turned a corner she caught a glimpse of it giving chase. The beast had already cleared the blockade of artificial corpses, and was moving at a speed that defied its size and crippled condition.

Hurtling through the halls and down a flight of stairs Ib came to a sudden stop. Directly to her left was a wall that looked like it had been smashed down and never rebuilt. It wasn't the room itself that caught her attention however as most of the rooms she had passed thus far had been in varying states of disrepair. What did hold her attention was the door at the opposite end of it.

Nestled into the far wall was a door that seemed to be blocked off by vines. By some miracle of chance Ib had ended up running directly to the safe room the doll had directed her towards.

Hearing the grating sound of needles clawing against the floor behind her, Ib wasted no more time. She quickly fished the pink key out of her pocket as she made her way across the debris and towards the door.

Jamming the key into the lock on the door she gave it a quick turn and watched as the vines began to recede. "Hurry up!" She shouted as the sounds of her pursuer drew closer. The vines however, refused to be rushed and seemed to care little for her plight.

After what felt like an eternity, the vines were out of the way and Ib was able to rush inside. As she moved to close the door behind her she was greeted by the sight of five brutally sharp needles ripping through the air where she had been standing moments ago. Slamming the door shut, Ib let out a sigh of relief as she heard the vines extend to block it off again.

_Yea._ She thought wryly. _Just like old times._

* * *

Mary lay on the cold floor, trying to remember just how she had ended up in this position. Had alcohol been involved? No that didn't sound quite right. The last thing she could remember was arriving at the gallery and then…

_IB!_

Mary shot to her feet, ignoring the cries of protest from her stiff muscles. She had to find Ib! Looking around she was greeted with a sight she had hoped to never see again; the walls and hallways of the Fabricated World.

Shaking her head to get rid of the dread that threatened to claim her, she set off towards the only exit to the room she was in.

"Hey! Wait a second." In one fluid motion, Mary pivoted on her heel and drew her pallet knife, ready to hack, stab, cut, and kill any creature that tried to keep her from Ib. Strangely enough the room behind her still looked empty. "Down here." The voice called.

Looking down Mary noticed the doll standing a short distance away from her. "Long time no see huh? Remember me?" It questioned. Frowning, she searched her memories for any indication to the doll's identity. "Your… Thomas right?" She asked. "Ha!" He shouted "I knew you would remember me, man is Geoffrey going to be jealous."

Mary's frown only deepened as she observed him. "I also seem to remember you were the one who dyed my hair purple while I was sleeping. _Three_ _times_." Thomas's smile quickly fell. "Hey hey hey, that was just some fun we had in the past right?" He asked, laughing just a bit too loud. "I'm here to help you see? Didn't want you running off without picking up your rose."

"My…" Turning to her right Mary noticed a small table holding a vase and a delicate yellow rose. A feeling of awe washed over her as she picked it up. In the past she had carried around a rose she had made from paper as a way of pretending she was human. This rose however, was very real.

"My rose…" Mary's voice was choked with emotion as she realized what it meant. "And I'll bet your looking for Ib aren't you? Lucky for you I know exactly where she is." Gripping her rose, she turned back to Thomas. "Where?" She demanded. "If she followed the directions I gave her she should be arriving at your room right about now." Mary just stared at him in disbelief.

"_What!?_" She shrieked. Holding up his hands in self-defense Thomas tried to placate the enraged girl. "Whoa, hold on. It was the only safe place nearby. You see we sorta… may have moved things around a bit while you were gone. Anyway here." He said drawing a crumpled piece of paper out of his vest. "Lucky for you I made two of these. Now if you'll excuse me I gotta run."

Before Mary could respond Thomas shoved the paper into her hands and dashed out the door away from her. She was tempted to run after him and force some answers out of his tiny body, but finding Ib took priority over all other things.

Unfurling the paper Mary noticed that it was in fact a hastily drawn map with directions she didn't recognize. _I guess he wasn't kidding when he said they moved things around._ She thought. Resolving to get some answers later she set off in the direction of the map.

* * *

Mary had expected some semblance of resistance to her progress, but after half an hour of walking she was near her destination had yet to see another living thing. She had hated the oppressive nature of the gallery when she had been imprisoned inside, but seeing it so lifeless filled her with a sadness she didn't quite understand.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by the sound of scratching coming from a hole in the wall ahead of her. Cautiously, Mary leaned her head around the corner. At the far end of the room was the door that protected her inner sanctum, and in front of it was something she could only describe as hideous.

The creature was attempting to pry off the vines in front of her door, and showed no indication that it intended to stop any time soon. It seemed entirely focused on getting at whatever was hiding inside.

Mary was surprised to find that she didn't feel even the slightest bit of fear. This _thing _was between her and Ib.

It didn't stand a chance.

Leaving her hiding place she strode purposefully across the room towards it. The monster was so preoccupied that it didn't notice her approach until the last second. It turned its head around just in time for her pallet knife to be shoved directly up into its chin.

Giving a groan, the creature slumped down like a puppet with its strings cut and died without another sound. Wrenching her knife free Mary noted that it came away coated in a thick, dark blue liquid. In that instant she felt a thrill of sadistic glee work its way up her spine as she contemplated licking the blade clean.

_NO!_ She screamed inside her head, mentally recoiling from the image. _You're not like that anymore, don't think like that! _

Taking a deep breath she turned back to the task at hand and approached the door. Somewhere inside was Ib, Mary just hoped that her sister was feeling calmer than before.

* * *

_I sure hope she doesn't hold a grudge for that whole hair thing._ Thomas thought to himself as he worked his way through the twists and turns of the Fabricated World. As he rounded the next corner he spotted the edge of safe territory.

Blocking off the hall was a large fortification manned by several mannequins holding makeshift weaponry. "Hey guys." Thomas greeted as he made his way past them. "I got some big news for the boss. Really juicy stuff." The mannequins simply ignored him as they always did.

Thomas passed several more sets of barricades before he found the door he was looking for. Quietly letting himself in, he took in the scene playing out in the room. Directly in front of him was a moderately sized table with two people leaning over it examining several maps.

Maybe leaning over wasn't quite the right word.

The woman was actually leaning out of a picture frame that had been carefully positioned on the table while the man seemed to be putting all of his weight directly on the table itself. His posture suggested that he hadn't slept in days, and judging from the bags under his eyes he probably hadn't.

"What about the dungeon, Red?" The man asked. 'Red' just shook her head in response. "Not a chance, it's practically crawling with cloth men. It's much too dangerous to try and expand into." Noting that neither of them had noticed his presence yet, Thomas quietly snuck towards the man. Once he was directly behind him, Thomas gave his pant leg a good tug and worked up his best impression of a disturbing grin.

Instinctively turning towards the disturbance the man was not prepared for the sight that assaulted him. Letting out a very loud, undignified shriek he jumped back from the doll only to end up tripping over his own feet and crash to the ground. The sound of Thomas's peeling laughter mixed with the Lady in Red's weary sigh washed over him as he lay on the ground stewing in humiliation.

"For crying out loud." He said getting back up. "How many times have I told you _not to do that!_" Thomas just held his sides as he tried to get his giggles under control. "Sorry Garry but you just make it so easy."

Groaning, Garry shot the doll a tired glare. "Did you have any news or did you just come in here to torture me?" he asked. "Oh yea I got news all right." Thomas replied enthusiastically. "Big news." Garry just rolled his eyes. "Let me guess, the southern hallway's been breached and the cloth men are going to kill us all?" He asked with as much sarcasm as he could muster.

"No nothing like that." Thomas replied. "Then what?" Garry demanded, starting to lose his patience. Thomas let him suffer for a few more moments before he gave his report. "Oh nothing." He said. "I just thought you might want to know…"

"…Ib and Mary are back."


	5. Chapter 5

**Oh boy, this one was fairly difficult to write since I don't have much experience with writing dramatic situations.  
**

Doubled-Helix:** Don't worry, I definitely don't mind getting long reviews. It's nice to know that people enjoy the story enough to write them. I'm afraid I cant talk too much about the main antagonist yet, but rest assured that his identity will be revealed soon enough.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters.**

* * *

The expression on Garry's face was one of the strangest ones that Thomas had ever seen. It was as if time had frozen his expression right as a guillotine was falling towards his exposed neck.

"What did you just say?" The question was spoken so quietly that Thomas almost didn't hear it. "W-well…" He stammered; thrown off by the less-than-entertaining reaction he was getting. "I said that Ib and Mary were back. You remember them don't you? I mean you wouldn't shut up about the brunette the whole first month you were here."

Crossing the room in three strides Garry caught the doll by its tiny throat and hoisted him up to eye level. "Hey! Put me down, I hate being handled by other guys!" Thomas's pleas fell on deaf ears however as Garry fixed him with a dangerous stare. "Listen to me." He said. "If this is some kind of sick joke than give it up now. I can put up with being taunted by you and your friends on a daily basis, but _that is going too far._"

For the first time since he had arrived at the gallery Garry was the one instilling fear in others. Thomas decided he didn't like the role reversal very much.

"Come on Garry!" He pleaded. "You know I wouldn't do that right? Listen I can prove it. Put me down and I'll take you right to them." Garry's eyes drilled into him relentlessly as he tried to convey his sincerity. After a few more seconds of the silent interrogation Garry's grip faltered and he dropped Thomas to the ground.

"You're serious aren't you?" It was more of a statement than a question, but Thomas nodded all the same. Garry's body sagged under the weight of the unwelcome information. He was only able to stay standing by clinging to the edge of the table in a white knuckled grip. "No, They can't be here. This isn't right, why would they come back? Was it for me? Oh god, did they come back here for _me_?"

Thomas was growing more and more disturbed at how Garry was reacting. "What's wrong? I thought you would have loved to see them again. Well, Ib at least." Garry ignored the question; instead directing another pointed glare at the doll. "Take me to them. Right now." He ordered.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Garry and Thomas both turned to the Lady in Red who had just spoken for the first time since the announcement was made. "What do you mean Red?" Garry asked. "What I mean is…" She said, taking a moment to decide how best to approach the topic. "It might not be a very good idea to just show up in front of them like that. The last time they saw you was when you died. I doubt they will react well to seeing you suddenly walking around."

Garry cringed at the mention of the unpleasant memory. "I know." He said. "But I can't just leave them out there. If they get hurt, or if _he _finds them… I can't let that happen." Red sighed and nodded. "Just be careful, try not to do anything too shocking all right?" She asked. Garry gave her a nod. "Yea, I'll be back as soon as I can. Hold down the fort for me while I'm gone."

Picking up a hammer off the table for self-defense, he turned his attention back to the doll.

"Let's go."

* * *

_I guess gym class is paying off after all._ Ib thought to herself as she waited for her heart rate to drop back down to normal levels.

Satisfied that she was no longer in immediate danger of being torn limb from limb, she opened her eyes to observe the 'safe' room she was hiding in.

The room itself was hardly remarkable, but what it contained was strange even by the standards of the gallery. Littering the floor were pieces of drawing paper and discarded crayons. Each one held a different drawing ranging from innocent pictures of fields or bunnies, to disturbing images of the Fabricated World's denizens at work.

Even stranger than the drawings was the furniture. Each piece looked like it had been drawn by the hand of a child, but despite the fact that many of them weren't filled in they still seemed to function like the real thing. The bed was soft and comfortable, and the chairs even felt like real wood.

Above it all however, was a single piece that dwarfed all else in the room. By this time Ib was becoming very familiar with the potential power of paintings, and the one hung on the wall in the back of the room was by far the most powerful one she had seen yet.

It was Mary.

The scene depicted a nine year old version of her standing in a field, and surrounded by yellow roses. As if in direct contrast to the girl who had stalked the outside halls of this world, the Mary in the picture wore a smile of genuine happiness and contentment.

As she observed the smiling image Ib couldn't help but close her eyes and let out a sad sigh. She wasn't sure how to feel about her right now. Memories of their life together mixed with those of the gallery, and above it all was the image of ten blue petals drifting to the ground. "Mary..." She whispered to herself. "Why did you do it Mary?"

"Ib?" The timid call jolted Ib out of her thoughts. As her eyes shot open she spotted the modern day version of the girl in the painting. In a way her presence felt surreal. She still wore the same type of green dress she had always worn, and in her hand was the very same pallet knife that had terrified Ib years ago. "Mary? What are you doing here?" To her knowledge the other girl hadn't been pulled into the abyss like she had.

"I came to get you out. Now come on, w-we shouldn't be here. _No one _should be here." Mary's shifting gaze told Ib that she was referring to the room they were standing in as opposed to the gallery itself. Carefully regulating her breathing, Ib prepared herself. For too long she had been stumbling in the dark without the slightest idea what was going on. It was time for some answers.

"I'm not going anywhere." Ib said "Not yet. Not until you tell me why." Mary simply stood in place, her jaw half open and a tremor working its way through her body. "Why did you do it Mary?" Ib's fingers curled into fists as the image of Garry's death resurfaced in her mind. "What did he do to you?" Mary was shaking even worse now, a haunted expression on her face. "_Why did you kill Garry?_"

Mary flinched as though she had been struck at those words. The part of Ib that still saw Mary as the loving child she had known most of her life begged her to stop, but she pushed on regardless. This was too serious to be stopped by a few tears and a quiet apology.

"Was it because he found out about you? Did you kill him to try and keep it a secret? What about me huh? Were you going to kill me too? _Answer me Mary!_"

"_I didn't have a choice!"_ The hysterical scream ripped through the air around them, tearing down the barriers that Mary had built up over the years. Tears flowing down her face, her blue eyes met the red of her sister's, and it was in that moment Ib saw how much Mary had suffered in the Fabricated World.

"Do you know what it's like to be alone?" She choked out between stifled sobs. "Do you know what it's like to be alone _for over a hundred years?_" Mary's fingers unconsciously curled tighter around the pallet knife as her trembling threatened to tear it from her grasp. "I didn't have a choice Ib. To escape this place I had to take the place of someone else. That's how it works."

A humorless laugh forced its way out of Mary's mouth as she spoke. "Do you remember what you said to me?" She questioned with a maddened light burning in her eyes. "_If only two of us could leave, who would you choose?_ Do you remember your answer Ib? Because I do."

Ib did remember. Garry hadn't been present during the conversation and, without thinking, she had given the answer that she thought the blonde girl would have wanted to hear.

"Do you know how much that answer meant to me Ib? And yet when _he_ came back, you were both willing to abandon me without a second thought." Ib suddenly found it impossible to reply to that accusation. She wanted to deny it, to tell her that the thought had never crossed her mind. But she knew it was a lie.

Ib's struggle only seemed to drive Mary further into her rage. "_Don't deny it!"_ She screamed, raising her knife to point directly at Ib's throat. "I saw the two of you! Why do you think I took your rose? If I hadn't you would have both left me in here for another hundred years!" For the first time since her escape from the gallery Ib was truly afraid of her sister.

After a few tense moments Mary's anger dissipated enough for her to realize what she was doing. Dropping the knife in horror, she stumbled back several steps. "I-Ib I… You know I wouldn't… I-I didn't…" Falling to her knees she wrapped her arms around herself, unable to meet Ib's gaze.

"I couldn't stay here like that. This place… it tears you apart from the inside. Please Ib! I-I'm sorry! You know I would never hurt you. _Please don't leave me here!_"

Ib felt as though shards of glass had worked their way into her bloodstream. Seeing such desperate pain in Mary's features was unbearable.

_Together Forever_

She remembered the time she had spoken those words, a promise against the fear of the unknown. _I'm sorry Garry_. She silently whispered.

Kneeling down, Ib wrapped her arms around the crying girl and gave her a gentle squeeze. Mary stiffened at the unexpected touch, but quickly relaxed into it and returned the gesture. She clung to Ib with all the need and fear of a drowning sailor clinging to driftwood.

"I know you wouldn't Mary." Ib whispered into her ear. "I know, and I'm not going to leave you. Not now, not ever." The two of them remained in that position for several minutes. When Mary's tears had been reduced to several quiet sniffles, Ib pulled back enough to look her in the eye again.

"I can't say I forgive you for what you did to Garry. Not yet." The fear instantly returned to Mary's eyes at those words, so Ib took both of her hands in a gentle grip to try and reassure her. "I can't forgive you, but I understand." She said. "I don't hate you, and I'm not leaving you."

Mary calmed down slightly at the assurance. "Thank you Ib." She said, barely loud enough to be heard. "Yeah." Ib said with a small smile. "Now come on, we still need to get out of here." Helping each other to their feet the two of them set off towards the door.

"Whoa! Look at that the size of that one!"

Both girls came to a sudden halt at the sound of the voice. Someone was outside the room.

"Don't get too close it might still be alive." Came a second, deeper voice.

"With a stab wound like that? Not a chance. At least we know Mary's been here."

Ib shot a questioning look at Mary. "Any idea who that is?" She asked. Mary nodded "It sounds like Thomas." Seeing Ib's confusion she added "one of the dolls I used to have. I don't know who the other person is though."

"Fine, then hand me the key and let's get those two out of there."

Several seconds of silence hung in the air before Thomas's voice responded.

"The key?"

"Yes, the key. How else are we supposed to get inside?"

"I gave the only key to Ib. I don't have another."

"Wha-WHAT? If there's only one key then how did Mary get in?"

"Duh, it's _her_ room. It's not going to keep her out."

The voices continued to bicker until Ib decided she had reached her limit for the day when it came to ridiculousness. "Hello?" She called through the door.

The two outside quieted down at the sound of her greeting. "Hello?" The deeper voice responded. "Ib? Is that you? We need you to open the door. We're kind of stuck out here."

"How about we start with a name?" She asked. "I'm not in the habit of opening doors for strangers." The voice didn't respond immediately, and when it did it almost sounded hurt. "You don't recognize me?" It asked.

Ib frowned at that. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it on any of the inhabitants of the Fabricated World. "Not really." She said "Don't take it personally; most of the people here were trying to kill me last time so I didn't have time to memorize the ones that weren't."

The voice was silent for several moments before it worked up the nerve to speak again. "Ib, it's me."

Ib had thought that there was nothing left this world could throw at her to catch her off guard. She was wrong.

"It's Garry."

At the sound of those words Ib forgot how to breath. Her body filled with the strangest sensation of shock, disbelief, and vertigo. In that moment she felt as though she was weightless, drifting towards the door and the man on the other side.

_Come back to us Ib._

Reality struck her in the face with the force of a sledgehammer, shattering the brief instant of hope she had been enthralled by.

Garry was dead.

Whoever was on the other side of that door was the man who had lured her here for reasons she didn't understand. He was the one who wore the twisted image of her friend as a mask.

"Ib? Are you all right?" There was the voice again, laced with so much false concern that it almost sounded genuine. "_You."_ She snarled through gritted teeth. Rage burned through every nerve in her body at the thought of this imposter walking around looking like Garry.

"Was this your big plan?" She spat. "Lure me back here with his face to try and finish what the gallery started?" She glared at the door that harbored him behind it as her anger continued to build. "Well you had better start running for your life, because if I open that door…"

"_I will break every bone in your goddamn body for doing this!"_

Silence was her only answer.

* * *

Garry felt as though he had been struck by lightning. Even the irritating doll beside him had been shocked into silence by the raw anger in Ib's voice. _My face?_ He thought. _What could she be talking about?_ The answer came almost as quickly as the question. She was talking about _him_. The monster that had turned the Fabricated World into a war zone. Garry shuddered at the thought of what he must have done to Ib to lure her back.

Taking a step forward, he placed his hand against the door. "Ib." He started. "I don't know what you've been through so far but it's really me. I can prove it." Hearing nothing from the other side, he continued. "Remember when we first met? You got my rose back from the Lady in Blue. Remember later when we held out together in that room? Did you ever get around to eating the candy I gave you?"

Still getting nothing from Ib, he gave a sad chuckle. "What about the book I took away from you? Can you guess what some of those words were now?" Letting out a sigh, Garry took his hand off the door and pleaded one last time. "Ib, I can show you that it's me but you're going to have to open the door. Please."

"Trust me."

* * *

Ib didn't know what to do. The voice sounded so sincere that she could hardly stand it. Everything it had said so far had been exactly what she would have expected from the real thing, but the claws of doubt remained firmly lodged in her heart.

Turning to Mary she spoke two words. "Be ready." The blonde nodded as she retrieved her pallet knife from the floor. Burying her indecision, Ib approached the door and began to open it. One way or another she and Mary were leaving the gallery, and if some doppelganger wanted to stand in their way… Taking one last moment of preparation, Ib threw open the door.

She could hardly believe what she was seeing.

The blue jacket he wore was torn and ragged from years of constant use. His hair was disheveled as though it hadn't known the touch of a brush for a very long time. His body seemed to sag with fatigue that refused to leave him. Above it all though was his face. Despite how cruel time had been to the rest of him, his face still held the gentle kindness she remembered.

"Ib?" He ventured.

"G-Garry?" This was not the cold gaze of the man who had haunted her dreams. This was the real thing. Tears began to blur her vision as the anger she had felt was replaced by real hope. "Garry!" Ib launched forward and hugged him in a crushing grip. "It's me Ib. I'm here." Even holding onto him as she was, Ib felt as though it wasn't real. The moment was ruined however, when one of their silent observers decided to add his input.

"Wow, and I thought Mary's mood swings could be bad. Are all girls like this?" All three of them directed murderous glares at Thomas for his interruption.

Pulling back Ib asked the question she almost didn't want answered. "Garry, how is this possible? How are you-" She stopped herself from finishing the sentence, fearing on some subconscious level that if she brought attention to his death he might disappear.

Garry gave her a reassuring smile before replying. "Believe me Ib, I'll tell you everything soon enough but right now we need to get somewhere safe. Come on I'll lead you back to our base-camp."

Ib didn't want to wait until they got somewhere safe to get answers, but the look on Garry's face told her that there would be no arguing that point. "Ok" She conceded. "But when we get there your telling me exactly what's going on." Garry smiled at her reaction. "Sure thing, now let's get going."

Ib felt Mary take hold of her hand as they set off, and for that moment she prayed that maybe, _just maybe_, they had all been granted a second chance.


	6. Chapter 6

**Lots of talking in this chapter along with some answers, and a surprise ending.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters. **

* * *

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Garry looked up at the Lady in Red across the table, massaging his temples before responding. "I'm working on it, just give me a minute." She rolled her eyes at his hesitance. "Those girls aren't going to wait forever." Sighing, he got up from his seat. "I know. I'm trying to think of a way to approach the topic."

Their trip back into safe territory had been mercifully uneventful. While the cloth men had been more active than usual, they were still fairly dull-witted and simple to avoid. Upon reaching the fortifications their tiny companion left to do whatever weird doll things it did in its free time.

Gary had insisted that Ib and Mary give him a few minutes to set things in order before he would be able to speak to them. Currently the two of them were waiting in a nearby room for him to come and deliver the explanations he had been dreading.

"I would go for the direct approach. No sense in building up false hope." Now it was Garry's turn to roll his eyes. "Easy for you to say, you're not the one who has to explain it." His words earned him nothing but an expectant stare from the painted woman. "Fine." He said. "I'm going. Wish me luck." With that Garry got up and made his way to the door.

"Good luck with that. Oh, and don't be mean to Mary, or else." Startled, he turned back to Red. "_Me,_ be mean to _her_?" He asked in disbelief. "She _killed_ me!" The smile she wore was so sickly-sweet it made him feel nauseous. "Yes she did, and if I find out you hurt her, _I'll _kill you. Believe me when I say it will be very painful, and very, _very_, permanent."

Garry just shrugged. "You now that I never intended to get even with her right?" Red nodded, her smile becoming somewhat more genuine. "Yes, I know. Still it doesn't hurt to be sure." Opening the door, Garry began the short walk to the repurposed storage room the girls were waiting in.

As he walked some of his doubts returned. _Calm down Garry._ He thought to himself. _Their still the same people you knew, just a bit older._ Logically speaking he knew those words to be true, but even so his mind was having a hard time accepting them. He still remembered the quiet and intuitive child Ib had been, speaking little but knowing far more than she let on. Garry found himself afraid of how much she might have changed over the years.

Then there was Mary.

He had to suppress a shudder at the thought of their previous encounter. The girl had been the definition of an unstable, psychotic child straight out of a cheap horror movie. Still, if she was with Ib now than she must have improved somewhat. At least, that's what he hoped.

Stopping in front of the door to their room he hesitated for one final moment. _Come on, you can't back out now._ Stepping forward, he made his way inside.

"-aying is that you shouldn't be so quick to jump to conclusions." Garry caught the tail end of Ib's sentence as he made his way into the room. She was currently leaned against a stack of boxes, while Mary paced in a circle in front of her. The conversation they were having however, ceased as soon as he made his presence known. "Oh, Garry. I didn't see you there." Ib said sending Mary a glance that said 'we'll finish this later'.

Garry offered a smile. "Don't worry about it. Now how about we sit down, I have a feeling this will be a long conversation." Ib nodded and sat down on the edge of one of the two beds. They were the only furniture in the room aside from the end-table placed between them. Taking a seat a short distance away from her, he thought of how to begin.

"Well-" He got no farther than that. Apparently deciding that he and Ib were sitting too close together, Mary forcibly inserted herself between them and eyed him warily. Garry was tempted to make a comment about her intrusion, but decided that antagonizing the blonde girl wasn't the best course of action.

"_Well_." He said, starting again. "There are a lot of things to fill you two in on, so where would you like to begin?" After a short pause, Ib made her concerns known. "The main thing I want to know is what happened to you Garry. The last time I saw you I thought you were gone." It was the question he had both expected and dreaded, simply because it was the one he liked to forget.

"Mary? How much did you tell Ib about the rules of this world?" Caught off guard at the unexpected question, she took a moment to answer. "Um, just a bit. It's not something we every really got a chance to discuss." Giving a small 'hmm' Garry began his explanation.

"The way it works in here is something along the lines of give and take. In order for something to leave the fabricated world, something from the outside world has to take its place." Ib nodded as she listened. "Yea, Mary told me about taking your place in our world." She said. Garry swallowed several times before continuing. "She had to take the place of someone else in order to escape, but it works both ways. This next part is a bit difficult to explain so I'll have to show you instead."

Reaching into his jacket pocket he grabbed the item inside and brought it out to show them. Mary gave a small gasp, and Ib's eyes went wide as they saw what it was.

In his hand, Garry held a blue rose. It was as whole and undamaged as the first time he had picked it up. The only problem was…

It was fake.

"When she took my place, I ended up taking hers. I may still be alive but I'm part of the gallery now." Garry watched as Ib's face fell. He could see the turmoil in her eyes as she tried to deny the evidence in front of her.

"Ib?" He asked. "Are you all right?" Ib closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. When she opened them again there was a burning determination buried inside. "This doesn't change anything." She said. "Ib-" He began. "No!" She shouted, cutting him off. "I already had to watch you die once. I don't care how hard it is, we _will_ find a way to save you this time!"

Garry couldn't help but smile at her insistence. Ib may not be the same quiet child he remembered, but her spirit remained undaunted. "We'll see." He said.

For several moments the three of them sat in silence with the weight of the terrible news suppressing any attempt at speech. Finally, Mary was the one to break the silence. "If your part of the gallery now, does that mean you have a painting too?"

"No." He replied. "To be honest I'm a bit thankful that I don't. It would be pretty creepy to see myself hanging up on a wall all the time." Seeing that the girls didn't have any more immediate questions, he posed one of his own.

"Don't take this the wrong way." He started. "But I have to know; why did you two come back?" Ib was the one to answer. "I brought us back." She said. "When we left the Fabricated World I… I forgot about everything that happened inside. For nine years I've been having dreams about this place, but not knowing what they meant or what to do about them."

Ib looked away from him as she recounted the next part of her dreams. "Just recently _he_ started showing up, calling me back to the gallery." She felt a chill as she remembered his presence. "He looked like-"

"Like me?" Garry asked. Both girls held looks of surprise at his interjection. "Well, y-yes." Ib said. "How did you know?" He shook his head as his fears were confirmed. "I know what he looks like because he's the one who has been tearing this place apart. We call him Veil, and I've had the displeasure of being his main target ever since he appeared."

"Veil?" Mary asked, frowning. "I've never heard of a painting named Veil in the gallery." Garry turned to her. "It's not his real name." He explained. "It's just what we've been calling him, mostly because he's been killing pretty much anyone who gets in his way. He made his own personal army of cloth men and has been using them to try and get at me."

"Why?" Ib asked. "What does he want with you?" Garry shrugged, not having a definite answer. "I'm not sure; all I know is that he has been letting those things loose after me." He gave an unenthusiastic smile as he continued. "That strategy actually worked against him. Had he just come for me directly the other gallery inhabitants probably would have let him have his way. When he started letting those things loose on everyone, they decided that banding together was the only option."

"So does that mean you're their leader now or something?" Ib asked with a questioning look. "Not exactly." Garry told her, laughing slightly at the idea of him leading the gallery into battle. "I'm more of an allied advisor. I give my opinion on what should be done, but Red is the one who makes the call."

"Red?" Ib asked. "Wait, are you talking about the _Lady in Red?_ As in the one who was shouting about how she would kill us?" Garry knew he probably shouldn't say anything about that, but he just couldn't resist. "Aww come on Ib." He said with a grin. "I don't think you're in any position to be complaining about making friends with a killer painting." He had to struggle to keep a straight face as Ib looked down sheepishly and Mary glared murderously at him.

Getting to his feet, Garry glanced at the door. "Anyway, it's starting to get late." He said. "You two will have to stay here tonight, but we'll work on getting you out of here in the morning. I'll be in the room just down the hall, so if you need anything just yell." As he made his way across the room Ib caught his hand. "Wait, Garry." She said. "I just wanted to say… I'm glad your back."

"Me too." He replied. "Me too…"

* * *

_What are you planning?_ Garry thought as he observed the papers on the desk he was seated at. _What do you want with them?_ That question had been plaguing his mind for the past hour as he tried to predict the movements of his double.

A knock at his door derailed his train of thought. "Come in." He called, wondering who would be looking for him at this hour. When the door opened it was the last person he expected to see. "Mary? What are you doing here?" While he didn't hold a grudge against the painted girl, he couldn't deny feeling uncomfortable being alone in a room with her.

"Do you have a minute?" She asked "I had a few more questions, and, well, they're the kind I don't want Ib to hear." His curiosity peaked, Garry nodded towards an empty chair near his bed. Mary chose to ignore the chair and remain standing while looking about as uncomfortable as he felt.

She licked her lips several times as she worked on forming the words she wanted to ask. "What I wanted to ask- I-I mean I wanted to know, I mean…" Sighing in frustration she looked down let out the pent up fear she had been holding. "_Areyougoingtotryandleavemebehind?"_

Garry responded in the only acceptable manner to such a question.

"Huh?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Taking a deep breath, Mary restated her question. "Are you going to try and leave me behind? Are you going to try and take your place back?" His answer came almost immediately.

"No."

Her face wore the perfect combination of shock and confusion, but before she could form another sentence Garry continued. "I won't try and take it back because it's not mine to take anymore." He said giving her a meaningful look. "For the past nine years I've been coming to terms with being stuck here, and I know that you've been building your own life out there. Now you have a family, and a_ sister_, that cares about you."

Mary's face turned scarlet at that last comment. "If I were to take your place I wouldn't ever be able to look in their eyes again knowing what I did." Seeing her fidgeting in place, he gave her a smile. "Besides, it's not all bad." He said. "I was trying to quit smoking anyway." She gratefully accepted the offered olive branch, the tension leaving her shoulders.

"There was something else I wanted to know." She said "My room had been moved. Did you do that?"

"Yea, that was me." Garry said. "I actually got the idea from you. When I saw how you could draw a sun that was warm, and water that was wet, I got to thinking 'maybe I can draw working construction equipment'. It wasn't what I would call straightforward, but we made it work in the end." Mary thought for a moment as she digested the new information.

"All right." She said, not entirely thrilled with the idea of crude machinery handling her former refuge. "But why did you want to move it in the first place?" At this Garry awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "Well, you see…" He began. "When Veil and his army of monsters moved in, your little colored world was one of the first places they set their sights on. I didn't think that they could actually get into your room, and even if they did I wasn't sure if your painting held any power after you left the gallery, but… I guess I just wanted to be on the safe side."

She stared at him with wide eyes as he spoke. "You protected it?" She asked softly. "Yea, I guess I did." He said. For a few moments the two of them simply shared a comfortable silence. "Was there anything else you wanted to know?" Garry asked, breaking the quiet.

"Yea there was one last thing." She said. "How did you know that we were going to come back?" Garry paused for a second at the question. "I didn't, what gave you that idea?" He asked.

"You had to have known." Mary insisted. "You had Thomas waiting for us when we arrived." He gave her a questioning look. "Thomas who?" He asked. "The doll with the tiny vest. You know, the one who led you to us." She explained. "Oh, _him_." Garry said, more to himself than to Mary.

As Garry remembered, Thomas had also been the one to bring news of their arrival to him in the first place. How _had_ he known Ib and Mary were going to show up? There was no way for him to know. Unless…

"Oh crap."

"Mary, where is Ib?" He asked suddenly. "She's asleep back in our room." Mary said. "Why? What does that have to do with-" Garry didn't give her time to finish. Rushing past her, he darted down out the door dearly hoping that he was wrong in his assumption.

* * *

For the first time in a very long while Ib was experiencing a peacefully dreamless sleep, and her body was making full use of it. She was so deeply asleep that the sound of her door being opened went entirely unnoticed.

When the gap had been widened enough, a small silhouette slipped inside and crept towards her sleeping form. His goal was not the girl herself however, as he had his eyes set on the item beside her.

Placed on the nearby end-table was his target.

Her rose.

Cautiously removing the flower from its resting place, he spared one last glance at the brunette. "Sorry kid." He whispered. "But I didn't survive this long by staying on the losing side."

Quiet as a ghost, Thomas slipped out of the room with her rose in hand and vanished into the darkened hallway.

* * *

**For anyone who might not get the reference, a veil is a piece of cloth used to mask the face of a dead individual. I felt it was fitting in this case.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters**

* * *

Thomas stalked down the halls of the Fabricated World, clutching his prize tightly to his chest. He had long ago passed the border of Garry's territory, but that didn't mean he was safe yet.

He doubted "safe" was a word he would ever use again.

For as long as he had existed Thomas had loved to get under people's skin; however until recently this had been an inconvenience. Most of the gallery inhabitants either didn't notice, or didn't care about his antics (you could only drop a bucket of water on a mannequin so many times before their lack of a reaction got dull). The only one he could consistently bother for a laugh was Mary herself, and _that_ was treading dangerous ground.

Then Mary had left for the real world leaving behind Garry in her place.

For Thomas the jumpy, timid man was like the Holy Grail. Day after day Thomas could subject him to the most creative torments he could think of, and his reactions never disappointed.

And then there were two.

Thomas never bothered to question where the second Garry had come from, nor was he too worried about the monstrous creatures he brought with him. As far as he was concerned this man was just another target. The idea that he could be caught was simply inconceivable.

With a grin and a home-made vest full of tricks, he set off after his newest target. Looking back, it was the single biggest mistake of Thomas's life.

Much to the surprise of the mischievous doll, Veil proved to be nothing like the man he mimicked. His cold cunning and total authority directed the cloth men on a relentless hunt, until Thomas had been backed into a corner.

For the first time in his life Thomas felt fear.

It came as a shock when, instead of killing him outright, Veil actually made him an offer. If Thomas were to act as a spy on Veil's behalf, then he would be allowed to live. Without a second thought, Thomas had made a deal with the devil.

In the beginning it had been just like a game. How clever he was! Sneaking into locked rooms to divine the secrets of Garry's plans. How much fun it was to outwit the people who never suspected him for a moment. Sure the information he gave to Veil led to a few mannequins getting smashed, and a few dolls getting torn up, but it was all in good fun right?

It wasn't until The Lady in Blue was captured that he learned how serious the situation was.

Blue had been acting as an officer for Garry and Red, leading their forces from the front. Thomas's job had been to lure her away from her troops and into the waiting arms of the cloth men. Veil had praised him for tricking the painted woman into an ambush, and had asked if he wanted to watch her interrogation. Eagerly, Thomas had agreed. He wasn't sure what an interrogation was, but it sure sounded like something exciting!

To this day, he can still hear the screams.

Being a doll created to exist in a demented children's world, Thomas had never seen someone truly tortured. The only things he knew about the process was that you made someone miserable enough to do whatever you say. By the time Blue's interrogation was finished, torture had taken on a whole new meaning for him.

She had started out vicious and defiant, even going so far as to spit directly into Veil's face.

That didn't last long.

Despite being massive brutes, the cloth men proved more than capable of using finesse with their deadly implements. Between screams of pain, Blue's anger and hate turned to suffering and despair. Through it all Veil had sat across from her with his cold smile never leaving his face.

He hadn't even bothered to ask a single question until she was begging for mercy.

Thomas had watched the entire process, too shocked to even think of looking away. This wasn't fun! This wasn't entertaining! Where was the gag? The punch line? The _humor_? When had his exiting game of playing a spy turned into something so heartless?

Before he had even come to terms with what was happening, it was over. Veil had asked his questions, and Blue had answered them all. Her spirit was so pitifully broken that Thomas could hardly believe she was the same person he had used to know.

At least it was over right? Veil had what he wanted, surely now they could go back to doing something enjoyable.

What came next shook him to his core.

At an order from Veil, one of the cloth men picked Blue up by her throat…

And tore her head off.

Veil simply sat watching with as much amusement as a god observing an unusual insect. It was in that moment Thomas learned the gravity of his situation. It was in that moment he knew he had sold his soul.

Holding his head in an attempt to blot out the dark memories, Thomas quickened his pace. It wasn't long before he was greeted by the empty gazes of the cloth men. "H-Hey guys!" He called to the two guarding the edge of Veil's territory.

"Don't mind me, I, uh, h-have an important present for the boss." Shivering under their scrutiny, he hurried past them and into the den of his master.

It wasn't long before he found his destination.

The door leading to Veil's little throne room was an imposing sight in and of itself, only made more intimidating by the gargantuan guard.

Ravager.

The massive creature dwarfed even the largest of his cloth brothers. He was Veil's favored attack dog, possessing both a name and the ability to speak.

"Hi there big guy." Thomas said, trying to mask his fear of the creature with false joviality. "I've got something important for the man in charge, so if you wouldn't mind moving out of the way…"

Ravager remained silent, glaring at the doll.

Thomas shifted back and forth on his feet waiting for some kind of reaction. After several more tense moments he spoke. "You… Are… Expected…" Thomas grimaced at the unpleasant sound of the creature's voice, but didn't wait around for him to change his mind. Stepping around Ravager's massive bulk, he entered.

The room was exceedingly large by the standards of the gallery, stretching on for a long while before reaching the opposite wall. The space however, was not put to waste. Covering almost every inch of the walls were replicas of Geurtena's paintings. Each one had been painstakingly replicated to match the exact proportions of the originals.

Other than the paintings there were only a few other defining features in the room. The first ones were the two doors located on opposite ends of the far wall. One led directly into Veil's private quarters, a place where not even the cloth men were allowed to enter. The other led down into the rooms where he ran his 'experiments' creating monsters and interrogating whatever poor fool he captured.

Thomas didn't know which room scared him more.

Besides the doors, the far wall had only one other source of decoration. Placed in a perfect row were a set of paintings that did not belong to Geurtena. The first two showed the same careful planning in their design, and depicted two young girls.

Ib and Mary.

The third painting was something else entirely. Its jagged lines and streaked paint gave the impression that its artist had attacked the canvas while he worked. It showed the man who had been left behind.

Garry.

And then there was the throne.

A gilded chair that looked far too elegant to belong in the gallery, it was placed directly in front of the three paintings in a position that allowed whoever was seated to observe all three at the same time. Of course, there was only one person who ever sat in it.

Reaching the end of the room, Thomas stopped behind Veil's sitting form. Without turning, he addressed Thomas. "Well, well, well." He said; his voice smooth as oil and cold as ice. "Has my little magpie brought me something?"

"Y-Yea, I got you something real nice." Thomas stammered with a nervous chuckle. Taking a step forward he handed over Ib's rose. "See? One red rose, just like you wanted."

For a moment, Veil sat observing the rose in silence. "Now, Thomas…" He said, fixing the doll with a sharp gaze. "Am I to understand that you came here with your job only _half_ done? As I recall you were ordered to acquire both of their roses."

"Wait, that's not my fault!" Thomas exclaimed. "The plan was to ambush them at Mary's room, but you didn't have anyone waiting for them." As soon as the words left his mouth he knew they were a mistake.

"Are you implying that your failure is _my_ fault?" Veil questioned, his gaze turning dangerous. "Wha- NO! Nonononononono-" Thomas quickly amended. "I would never imply anything like that! It's just… I-I… They showed up too early! That's it! T-They made it to the safe room before your guys had a chance to get into position. After that, getting one rose was the best I could do."

Transfixed by terror, Thomas didn't dare move in the slightest. Had he needed to breathe he likely would have suffocated then and there.

Veil kept him pinned to the spot for a little while longer, ensuring the doll knew who was in charge. "I suppose it will have to do." He said eventually. With Ib's rose in hand, he turned back to the paintings in front of him. "However, since you only managed to complete half your task I have another for you to work towards."

Thomas sat in silence, not trusting himself to speak. "Ever since the girls arrived." Veil began. "My pet has been most… uncooperative. She seems to have recognized their presence and refuses to obey my commands." Thomas had a bad feeling about this. "Your new job is to go into her holding chamber and convince her to bend to my will again."

Thomas could hardly believe what he was hearing. Veil expected him to get that… _thing_ under control?

He shuddered. Veil's 'pet' was something that scared him even more than the cloth men. Not because of its power (it was weak to the point of being helpless) but the fact that its whole existence seemed to be a mockery of life.

His dislike of the creature made no difference in the end. He was still bound to the good graces of Veil, and if he wanted Thomas to win his pet back over then that was what Thomas would have to do.

Trying not to think about the hopeless task set for him, Thomas started off towards the door leading to the experimenting chambers.

All the while Veil sat in his chair idly twirling the red rose in his hand.

* * *

"_We can't just sit back and do nothing!"_ Red raised a hand to her forehead in an attempt to calm herself, and prevent her from striking the man she was speaking to. "Garry listen to me." She said for the hundredth time in the past ten minutes. "This is exactly what he wants. If you go charging off after him you'll be playing right into his hands."

When news of Thomas's betrayal was made known, many of the gallery forces had been shocked. Some had called for his death, while others claimed that there must be some mistake. None however had reacted quite so badly as Garry.

He blamed himself for not seeing the traitor in their midst sooner, and now the loss of Ib's rose threatened to undo everything he had accomplished so far. Even after being lost in the Fabricated World for so long, he still cared about her enough to throw away his own life to try and save her.

It was touching, Red supposed.

Stupid, but touching.

"I don't care!" Garry shouted, slamming his hand down on a nearby table. "If we just sit around and wait for him to make the first move she could die!" The rational part of Red's mind told her that this whole situation could be easily solved by breaking both of Garry's legs and locking him in a dark room where he couldn't do anything suicidal, like charging directly into enemy territory.

Instead she continued to try and consul the near-hysterical man.

"If you go and get yourself caught then how will that help Ib?" She asked. "You would just be killing yourself for nothing." Garry didn't answer, choosing instead to glare at the floor in front of him as though it was another hidden agent of his enemy.

"What we need to do right now is track down Thomas and get information out of him. If we just run in blindly the cloth men will tear us apart." Garry looked as though he wanted to start another back-and-forth battle of heroics vs. logic, but a knock at the door interrupted him.

"_What?"_ He called, more harshly than he had intended.

"Can we come in?" At the sound of Ib's voice Garry's anger left him, and guilt immediately shot through his system. "Yeah, the doors open." He replied.

Opening the door, Ib and Mary stepped inside. Both girls looked worse for wear, and Mary looked utterly haunted.

Red couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the blonde girl. She had always tried to look after Mary when she was a painting, and even after she left with Ib Red still felt a paternal affection for her.

Mary's reaction to the loss of Ib's rose had been less dramatic than Garry's, but no less intense. She had grown much more reclusive, speaking little and constantly hovering at Ib's side as though her presence could protect against Veil's cruelty.

For several moments the four of them stood (standing being a relative term in Red's case) in silence. Garry was the one who eventually broke the spell. "Ib." He started. "We'll find a way to get your rose back. I won't let anything happen to you."

Ib nodded, but her expression remained unchanged. She wasn't a little girl anymore, and she knew all too well that words of assurance didn't guarantee anything. "What do we do now?" She asked. "Do we have a plan?"

Red decided to step in before Garry could make any hasty assurances. "Right now we don't." She said. "We can only assume that Veil wants us to come after him directly to get your rose back. Currently our only real option is to wait for him to make a move and hope we can do something about it."

The glare Garry sent her would have been enough to subdue an enraged elephant. "We are _not_ waiting for him to him to start this. _We _are going to find a way into his territory and get Ib's rose back."

"Garry we've been over this." Red repeated, quickly losing her patience. "A direct attack on Veil's forces would be pointless. Even if by some miracle we managed to win the fight, he would have more than enough time to simply pick up the rose and pull the petals off one by one."

Seeing the growing tension, Ib stepped in. "What if we didn't attack them directly?" She asked. "What if we sent someone to sneak into his territory? The cloth men didn't seem all that perceptive."

"Who would be willing to go alone into Veil's stronghold?" Red asked. "You?" The look on Ib's face told her that was exactly what Ib had intended to suggest. "You don't know the layout of our world well enough to be able to have a chance at success."

"I do."

Garry, Ib, and Red all turned startled looks at the one who had spoken. "Mary?" Red cautioned. "I know you want to help Ib, but this is going beyond dangerous to being outright insane. If he found out where you were, you would be completely isolated. There's nothing any of us would be able to do to help you."

Mary turned to face Red with a grim light shining in her eyes. "I spent over a hundred years wandering this world." She said. "I know these halls better than anyone." Red's look of concern didn't change. "This is the best chance we have, and I'm not asking for permission. I'm going."

At the horrified expression on Ib's, face she offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Don't worry Ib, I'll get your rose back." Ib violently shook her head. "Mary, you can't-"

"I'll be back." Mary said, cutting her off. "We made a promise remember?" Her expression allowed for no argument.

Not knowing what else to do, Ib caught her in a fierce hug. "Don't you dare get caught." She whispered.

After several moments the two of them parted, and Mary turned to Red and Garry. "Are you sure about this Mary?" Red asked. She just nodded in response.

Stepping forward, Garry motioned for her to follow. "Come on, I can give you an overview of where you're going and what to look out for." Looking back at Ib one last time, she followed.

Ib and Red both sat in silence as the other two left.

Both of them wondering if this was the right choice.

Both of them praying it wasn't a goodbye.


	8. Chapter 8

**Fun fact, when writing this chapter the image of Mary wearing sunglasses and sneaking around to mission impossible music kept popping into my head.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters**

* * *

Pushing open the rusted door, Thomas peeked his head into the dark room behind it. To call it a prison cell would have been an insult to the quality of life enjoyed by those serving out their time. The dreary stone walls had been haphazardly shaped into the form of a room, and looked as though they had never been so much as dusted since then.

Suppressing a sigh, Thomas stepped inside and turned his attention to the room's lone occupant. She was a short distance away, in a pitiful heap on the floor. The same place she had been the last time he saw her.

The same place she always was.

As he approached, glassy, corpse-like eyes followed him. "Hey kid, how are you doing?" He asked, hoping to get some sort of reaction. To his disappointment she remained silent, watching him with an unblinking gaze. Her entire body was so still that Thomas found himself wondering if she even had to breathe.

"The big man in blue says you haven't been feeling all that energetic lately. Would you mind telling me what the problem is?" Again, she remained silent. "It's ok; you don't have to be shy. I'm here to help." She didn't answer. Seeing that playing the nice guy wasn't getting him anywhere, Thomas decided to change tactics.

"You know." He said with a shrug. "Veil isn't too thrilled about your lack of enthusiasm, and if you don't shape up he _could _make your living conditions far worse than they are already. So how about you go back to doing what you do, and we can all get on with our lives?"

She seemed entirely unimpressed with the threat of retaliation from their master. Thomas's shoulders slumped as he realized just how difficult it was going to be to convince her to work for Veil again.

"Look kid." He began. "This is about Ib right?" For a moment he thought he saw something spark in her eyes, but it was gone too quickly for him to be sure. "She's already in the gallery, and you know Veil isn't going to let her walk out of here any time soon. She's done for, and being stubborn won't change that. It'll just make things worse for both of us."

Again, silence filled the room the moment he stopped talking. Thomas was starting to panic under the oppressive lack of response. Veil expected him to get this parody of a living creature to draw Ib into his grasp, and if Thomas couldn't deliver…

"_Come on!"_ Thomas hissed, a note of desperation working its way into his voice. "Why do you care if Ib dies? It's not like she has any link to you. What do I have to do to get you back on the job? _What do you want me to do?_"

For several seconds she was silent. Just as Thomas was about to start outright pleading with her, one of her arms began to move. With a painfully slow motion, she reached into her tattered jacket and pulled out a small object. At first Thomas couldn't understand what she wanted him to do with it, but clarity struck him like a lightning bolt.

"_NO!" _He shouted, recoiling in horror at the prone figure. "You can't ask me to do that! Do you have any idea what Veil would do to me if I did? He would do worse than kill me! I don't even want to _think_ about how angry he would be!" With the same maddeningly slow motions, she returned the object to its resting place and once again turned her dead stare on him.

For the next three hours Thomas tried everything he could think of to get her to cooperate, or at the very least to respond. He started with threats of what Veil would do to her, followed by promises of rewards if she was a good follower. Next came the wave of shouting. Thomas vented every ounce of frustration he had in an attempt to get any sort of reaction. Once his anger had been entirely dissipated, he resorted to getting on his knees and begging her.

Not once did she so much as blink at his tactics.

With a growing sense of hopelessness, Thomas got to his feet and made his way to the door. He needed to take a walk, or a run, or _anything_ to get away from those lifeless eyes. The inevitability of his failure seemed to weigh him down with every step. No matter how hard he tried to distract himself, one thought kept repeating in his mind.

_I'm going to die._

* * *

Mary crouched low as she peered around a corner. Directly in front of her was a group of three cloth men who had been patrolling this section of the Fabricated World. As she watched, two of them went into a side room while the third remained outside observing the hallway for any threats.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she waited for the perfect moment to abandon her cover. Her chance came only seconds later. Hearing a crash from the room its companions had entered, the cloth man turned instinctively to face the noise.

Sprinting forward as quietly as possible, Mary dashed past the distracted creature and rounded the next bend in the hall. She stood there pressed against the wall as she strained her hearing, listening for any sounds that would indicate her flight had been detected. Thankfully the cloth man hadn't seemed to notice the green blur move past it.

Feeling lightheaded with the aftereffects of her adrenaline rush, Mary let a manic smile tug at her cheeks. The thrill of being in such close proximity to danger was not something that she would normally enjoy, but right now it was a reminder that she was still alive. That she had not returned to the gallery as the painting she had once been.

When she had volunteered to be the one to go after Ib's rose, she hadn't stopped to consider what psychological effects it might have on her. Being away from her sister made every fear she had seem so much more _real_, even when there was nothing to be afraid of.

More than once she had been nearly paralyzed by the nameless terror of being stuck in this place again. What if she had simply dreamed about escaping? What if Ib and Garry had actually left her behind and this was all just a hallucination brought on by her broken mind?

During these moments Mary would close her eyes and cling to the memories she had of living with Ib.

The time Ib had explained to her what a birthday was, and why it was special. The look of surprise on her face at Mary's ignorance of the most sacred of childhood traditions had been priceless.

The time she had stupidly decided to try the 'special punch' at the school dance. Ib had stayed with her all night as she had emptied the contents of her stomach into a bucket.

Even the time she had bought Ib that sketchbook. All the brunette ever drew was the same blue rose, but the smile she wore whenever she was working made it worth the risk.

Consulting her mental map of the area, Mary planned her next move. She was deep into Veil's territory by now so the number of cloth men would be much higher than before. Starting out she had assumed that slipping by them would be easy (hide and seek was one of her favorite games to play with her dolls when she had been a child) but what they lacked in awareness, they more than made up for in diligence.

At one point she had been forced to remain motionless for a full two hours as a cloth man had taken up position at the end of the hallway and simply sat there. It hadn't so much as twitched as it stared out at her hiding spot.

Mary tried to estimate her approximate distance from where Garry had told her the center of Veil's territory was.

"_Ungrateful little pest, you'd think that the red eyed freak was the one who made her with how thick headed she's being." _

She stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of the voice.

"_Honestly, what does it get her? Nothing. I know she's supposed to be modeled after a teenager but come on! You don't get to have a rebellious phase with Veil."_

She knew that voice. Pushing forward, she urged her breath to remain quiet and her heart not to race. Peeking around the next corner she laid eyes on its source.

Thomas

"Now were both going to get it because she's too busy having a pity party to think about who else might get caught by his bad mood. _Like me!_"

He was pacing back and forth while muttering to himself. Mary's blood began to boil in her veins as she saw the doll that had taken Ib's rose. The doll that had endangered Ib's life. Every instinct she had screamed at her to rush forward and deal out the punishment he deserved. She could easily force him to tell her where the rose was, and then carve out every last one of his stitches with her knife.

She didn't however. No matter how satisfying it would be to attack Thomas, it would make far too much noise. The cloth men would be there almost immediately and she would be caught before she even had a chance to save Ib.

"Veil isn't going to wait forever. Might as well get back to her for another pointless round of 'monkey see, monkey don't do crap'."

As Thomas turned to go back to whatever job he had been doing, an idea began to form in Mary's mind. She could follow him to his destination. He would have to report back to Veil eventually. He would lead her straight to him.

Mary's hand unconsciously went to her knife as the realization washed over her.

She could end this before it began.

She could kill Veil.

While she didn't relish the idea of going up against him alone, he was a threat. So long as he lived everyone's life was in danger.

Silently, she stalked Thomas's tiny figure through the corridors of Veil's domain. There were mercifully few cloth men on patrol, and the doll was far too caught up in his own problems to notice his green and yellow shadow.

Pausing in an alcove to let a rather stunted cloth man pass, she momentarily lost sight of Thomas. Checking to make sure the coast was clear; Mary stepped out of her hiding place and hurried to catch up with him. Her run was brought to a halt when she rounded the next bend, and frantically jumped back behind it to avoid being seen.

Guarding a door at the end of the hall was the single largest cloth man she had seen yet. The monstrous creature was easily twice the size of the ones she had been sneaking past. Its entire body seemed to be formed from a thick leathery material and in place of the needle claws most cloth men sported; it had large spikes that looked as though they had been carved from marble.

Its massive size meant that there was no way for Mary to get past it, and she was willing to bet the door it blocked was the very same one Thomas had disappeared into. She would have to find another way inside.

Cautiously, she began to backtrack in search of another way around. The first several rooms she searched proved fruitless. They had no other exits, and any useful materials had been taken already by Veil's forces.

The fifth room she entered seemed to be as unhelpful as the others at first, but just as Mary was turning to leave something caught her eye. Lying amid pieces of broken furniture and torn paintings was a small box of chalk.

Upon closer inspection she found there were three sticks that were still in useable condition.

Turning them over in her hand, she felt a plan take shape. The only obvious entrance to where she needed to go was blocked off. It would be almost impossible to get in undetected that way, but if _another_ way were to be created…

Mary smiled nervously at her idea. It was risky in the extreme but she saw no other alternatives, and every moment that went by was another one that Ib's life was in the hands of a madman. She would just have to hope that nobody in the room noticed her before she had a chance to hide.

It took another twenty minutes before she found a wall that was directly connected to the other room, but thankfully it was not guarded. Pausing to try and stem the nervous anticipation that was running through her veins, Mary began to draw.

She was careful to make the new door as small as possible, both to make it easier to draw and to minimize the chance of someone on the other side seeing it. As the final line was connected she took a quick look around to make absolutely sure no guards were nearby. Satisfied that she was totally alone, Mary eased the newly made door open.

As she extended her head through the gap, the sight that greeted her was not the one she had been expecting. There were no cloth men inside. In fact, there was no one inside period. The room had been left utterly devoid of life.

_That's strange._ Mary thought to herself. _Why would he leave so many guards outside, but none in here? Did he not expect anyone to get this far?_ As she entered, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

This was far too easy.

With every step she expected a hidden army to pop out of the floorboards and attack, but the only beings that showed themselves were the many paintings that lined the walls.

As she neared the end of the room without incident, the tension began to ease out of her body. Maybe he really _hadn't_ expected anyone to get this far. After all, most of the people in the gallery were far from stealthy.

The tension was quickly replaced by shock however, as she saw the decorations on the far wall. Hanging in a row were painted renditions of Garry, Ib and herself.

"Not bad, are they?"

Spinning on her heels, Mary drew her pallet knife and faced the new threat. For a brief instant of confusion, she thought that somehow Garry had managed to follow her. That thought was cast aside the moment she saw his face. Not even in her most crazed, hate-fueled, frenzy had she ever thought of Garry carrying such a heartless expression.

It was Veil.

"So good of you to drop by Mary." He said. "I rarely get visitors these days. Surely you of all people could understand how taxing that can be?" She grit her teeth and glared at him.

"Where is Ib's rose?" She demanded.

"Oh Mary, I'm hurt." He replied, feigning disappointment. "After all this time you don't even bother giving me a 'hello'? I'll have you know that life here has gotten rather hectic since you left."

She could hardly believe what she was happening. Here she was, armed and dangerous, and he had the sheer audacity to wear that smirk as though _he _were the one in control.

"I'll have you know that I stored the rose away where it wouldn't be a distraction." He said. "I find that such things tend to be overly intrusive when you're trying to hold a discussion."

As he spoke, Mary's burning rage reached its peak. Her eyes were twin pits of roaring hellfire threatening to immolate him on the spot. Every muscle tensed in preparation to wipe away his arrogant smile with a storm of blood.

He was alone.

He was unarmed.

And he was

In

Her

Way!

Howling like a banshee, Mary rocketed towards him.

Three steps away he remained motionless.

Two steps away she brought her knife up in preparation.

One step away it carved a murderous arc through the air, eager to bite into him.

With bone-jarring force, her charge was brought to a sudden halt. She could only stare in disbelief as her knife hovered mere centimeters away from his exposed throat. As her eyes traced a path back up her arm she saw why. He had caught her wrist mid swing.

Before she could attempt to extract her arm for another attack, his free hand curled into a fist and slammed into her midsection. Mary doubled over as the air shot out of her lungs, but the hand holding her wrist didn't let her fall. Still recovering from the first blow, she wasn't prepared for the second. His knuckles crashed into her face with the force of a wrecking ball, causing her head to snap back and something in her nose to break.

Still dangling from his grasp Mary could just barely make out his voice through the ringing in her ears. "That's one thing I never understood about your choice." He said, wrapping his fingers around her throat. "What's the appeal in being human if they are so… breakable?"

As he applied pressure, Mary's vision began to blur.

"Well, I suppose we can continue this discussion later. You look so very tired, and I would be a poor host if I made you stay awake to answer my quandaries."

She struggled feebly with her free hand as the oxygen deprivation stole the last of her strength.

"Good night child. Pleasant dreams."

Those were the last words she heard before her world turned to black.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters**

* * *

If someone had come to Ib several days ago and told her that she would be creating weapons to help fight off monsters, she likely would have given them a strange look while backing away slowly. Then again, several days ago she hadn't been trapped in a nightmare world.

Ib frowned as she observed the spear she had been working on. It, like most of the weapons wielded by the gallery inhabitants, had been drawn with various coloring materials ranging from crayons to oil pastels.

The process had been strange to her at first, like some sort of demented 3-D coloring book, but once she got the hang of it she had been working nonstop to help. Shaping the various weapons forced Ib's mind away from worrying about Mary, and made her feel as though she were benefiting the war effort directly.

Unfortunately, after a short time it became apparent that her efforts were appreciated but unnecessary. Garry had worked hard during his time here to ensure that their armory was always well stocked, so any more armaments were purely for backup.

Which brought her to the spear she was making.

Once it became clear that weaponry in bulk wasn't needed, Ib had devoted herself to making a single exceptional piece. She used the term 'exceptional' loosely.

Just like the real thing, the spear felt smooth and metallic. That was where the similarity ended however, since it was created from paint instead of metal it was far lighter than it should have been. And since Ib didn't know the proper design or proportions for a spear she had to make more than a few guesses.

The body was a good five feet in length, though she still felt as though it might not be quite long enough. How big were the ones in the stories of knights and dragons? She didn't have too much time to worry about that though, as the tip was her main concern.

If there was one thing that Ib now knew about painting, it was that creating a sharp point with a paintbrush was nearly impossible. She had spent an infuriating amount of effort trying to get it into a shape that would actually be able to do any damage. Time and again she had carefully painted in the tip, using the lightest possible of touches. Time and again some part of it had been wrong and she was forced to wipe away the paint before it dried that way.

This one was too thick.

That one was lopsided.

Too rounded.

Too small.

Too wide.

That didn't even look like a point.

To save her sanity from the infuriating construct, Ib took breaks during which she decorated the haft of the spear. At first she had simply made it more ornate with lines and swirls she thought looked nicer than plain silver. That changed once it became increasingly clear who this spear was being designed for.

With delicate dabs, she had begun adding in dozens of blue roses to the design. Each petal was made up of several different subtle shades, all mixing into the stem and a single brilliant blue color. It looked like the kind of weapon a commander would wield.

Perhaps even the kind a hero would carry into battle.

Finishing up a half-blooming rose bud, Ib turned her attention back to the maddening tip. After all, without _that_ it would just be a fancy stick.

She just hoped Garry would like it.

* * *

**Look at what you've done now**

Thomas grimaced at the sound of his own mind, and tried his best to shut it out.

**You know she's going to die down there don't you?**

No more than half an hour ago he had watched as Veil carried Mary's limp body down into the interrogation chambers. He knew full well what fate awaited her, and had quickly fled back up to the painting room to avoid hearing her screams.

**This could have been avoided.**

No! It couldn't have been avoided! Veil had wanted to use the girls against Garry, and Veil always got what he wanted. Mary had been the one who was stupid enough to attack him head on. If she died, it was her own fault.

**You could have helped them.**

He refused to believe that. If it were true, it would mean that everything he had done would have been for nothing. He couldn't stand the thought of every death he had caused having been avoidable.

**You can still help them.**

He violently shook his head at that. If he tried to help them now then Veil would…

**It's time to choose Thomas.**

He didn't have a choice! Did that damn voice think he wanted this? He didn't care about conquest or killing; he only wanted to enjoy himself.

**Are you a doll? Or just another puppet?**

Slowly, he turned to face the door leading to Veil's private quarters. It was unguarded, but it hardly needed to be. The sheer thought that _any_ of Veil's forces would be so foolish as to actually enter it was beyond belief.

**You know that's where he's keeping their roses.**

Thomas knew. He had seen Veil enter with Ib's rose, and he was willing to bet that his dark lord had stored Mary's away as well.

Without fully understanding his own actions, he approached the door.

**You can still help them.**

The whole experience felt surreal. Here he was, standing directly in front of the gateway to a world that was so far outside his limits he couldn't even begin to think of it. Yet still he didn't turn away.

**You can still save them.**

What would happen if he opened it? Would Veil know? Would an army of cloth men come to end what little life he had left?

A strange emotion began to fill Thomas's senses. It was unlike anything he had felt before. He was worrying about the safety of the others he had once called friends. More and more, he found himself desperately wanting to see Veil beaten. To see someone wipe that smug grin off his face for good. The emotion continued to well up inside him until it even overrode his instincts for self-preservation.

**It's not too late.**

Thomas opened the door.

Stepping inside, he was slightly underwhelmed at what he found. Veil's private study was sparsely furnished, with four bare walls, a desk, and a chair being it's only contents. He didn't care much for the décor, though as the objects on the desk were far more important.

The first two items that caught his eye were the roses. Ib's rose still held all its original beauty whole and unblemished. Mary's on the other hand, had already lost four petals courtesy of Veil's violent welcoming.

They were not the only things on the table however. Beside the roses was a moderately sized book that looked as though it had been opened and closed many times in the past, and beside it was a strange looking lock-box. Thomas had no idea what the significance of the book and the box was, but if they were stored here then they must be important.

**It's time to choose.**

Choice was becoming a very funny thing to Thomas. If he stayed in Veil's service, he would likely be killed the next time he didn't perform to his master's expectations. If he tried to leave, he would likely be killed by Garry's forces for betraying them.

**Choose.**

There was no right answer. Either path would likely be the end of him.

Knowing that it would likely be something he would regret for the rest of his life, Thomas made his decision.

* * *

Mary's entire world consisted of pain and darkness. She could only faintly hear a voice nearby, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't concentrate enough to make out its words. Whimpering, she dearly wished Ib were here. Nothing was ever as bad when she was nearby.

Her haze was interrupted when she felt the touch of metal on her back. Before she could try and focus on it, agony shot through her body as the object pierced her skin and raked across the muscle underneath.

Screaming, Mary jerked away from the object but quickly found that she couldn't move.

"That's enough." Came the voice.

As the object removed itself from her back, she forced her eyes open. Looking down she saw that her body had been thoroughly tied to a metal chair. On either side of her was a cloth man, and sitting directly across from her was Veil.

"So good of you to finally wake up." He said with a smile. "I was beginning to get impatient."

Mustering her resolve, Mary glared at him with more confidence then she actually felt. "If you think I'm going to break that easily, you're dead wrong." She hissed.

"Oh come now." He said, rolling his eyes. "You don't think that little prick was the main event do you? We haven't even started on the fun parts yet."

She sat silently, willing herself not to show any weakness.

"Don't be like that." He said. "This doesn't have to be anywhere near as painful as you might think."

"Where is Ib's rose?" She demanded, ignoring his advice.

Veil simply raised an eyebrow. "You're worried about _her_ at a time like this? Why in the world would you be concerned for her safety when it's _your_ life that's in the most danger?"

"She's my sister!" Mary spat vehemently.

For a moment Veil sat silently observing her, when his reaction came it was not the one she had been expecting. "Oh, you poor foolish creature." He said, with something resembling pity in his eyes. "You honestly think you care for her don't you?"

Mary flinched in shock at his words. "What is that supposed to mean?" She demanded. "Of course I care for her!"

"No you don't." He replied, with all the patience of an adult explaining a simple concept to an ignorant child. "Don't you understand? You aren't capable of feeling love and compassion because you aren't a real human."

"You're lying." She said quickly, desperately wishing her arms were free.

Veil shook his head sadly at that. "Tell me something Mary, do you understand what it is to love something? It is a selfless and self-destructive emotion that humans use to justify their attachments to each other. It isn't something you or I can experience because we were not born into the world of human emotion. We were created by paint and canvas. We are artificial beings, and so any emotions we may feel would be just as artificial."

Mary could only stare back at him. Was he telling the truth? Was her care for Ib fake? No! It couldn't be. This was a trick he was using to try and break her will. She knew her feelings for her sister and no amount of goading from him would change that.

Veil frowned, annoyed at her defiance. "You don't believe me do you?" He asked. "Well answer me this, how far would you be willing to go to save her?"

Mary already knew her answer to that. No matter what might stand in her way, she would always go the distance if Ib was in danger.

"I wouldn't let anything stop me." She said with real confidence.

Much to her surprise, this seemed to be the answer he wanted. "Exactly." He said. "You would go to any length to protect her. Even if it meant someone else had to die."

Her eyes widened as she saw where he was going.

"You would kill anyone who threatened the two of you." His words assaulted her conscience as his eyes held her in place. "If Garry threatened you again you would kill him without hesitation. You would do the same to Ib's family. Her friends. Her neighbors. To anyone that was a threat."

Mary tried feverishly to find her voice and deny his words, but to her mounting horror she found herself unable to dispute them.

"Tell me, does that sound like love to you?" He asked softly. "The simple truth is that she isn't your sister, she's your _obsession_."

"No…" Mary's voice was so quite she wasn't sure if she had spoken out loud.

"You would kill for her. You _have_ killed for her. You will protect her at all costs because she is the object of your total desire and adoration. A beautiful toy that you guard jealously against any who would part you from it."

His voice held no accusation or condemnation, but they cut straight through her heart none the less.

"I understand your conflict. You and I have more in common than you might think." He said. "There is no need to worry; so long as you cooperate she will not be harmed."

Mary sat bolt upright at that. She knew he couldn't be telling the truth, but a tiny part of her clung to hope regardless.

"You see, I hold no hate for either of you." He began. "My only true enemy is Garry himself. That is why I brought you here. Not for revenge, but for aid."

She already knew what Veil was going to ask.

"My proposal is simple." He stated. "Kill Garry, and I will let the two of you go."

No sound came out of her mouth. There was simply nothing she could say to that. She had already taken Garry's life once, and now she was expected to do so again.

Mary didn't know what to do.

"There is no need to worry too much." He said with smooth confidence. "We both know what your answer will be, so fretting is pointless." Rising from his seat he headed towards the door.

"Of course." He said, nodding to the two cloth men. "There is still the matter of disciplining you for attacking me. Give her a taste of our punishments. Nothing too permanent though, she still has a job to do."

She couldn't bring herself to react as they approached.

* * *

Veil walked slowly back to his personal quarters, planning how his next move would turn out. Mary would follow his commands, of that he was sure. What he was _not _sure of was how successful she would be at assassinating his rival.

It would be annoying should she fail, but he was a patient man and he still had the other girl's life in his hands. He had every advantage he needed to finally eliminate Garry.

Smiling to himself, he stepped into his office…

And stopped.

Time itself seemed to freeze, as every last cloth man felt a horrible tremor ripple through the link to their master.

Standing in the doorway Veil's eyes were trained motionlessly on his desk. The smile slowly worked itself into a feral snarl as he stood there.

The items he had stored in his room, the four most important objects he had, were gone.

His fingers tightened their grip around the doorknob until it had been crushed into fine powder.

"_Thomas." _He growled, seething with rage

"_You should not have done that Thomas."_


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters**

* * *

If there was one thing Garry couldn't stand about living in a war-zone, it was the waiting. There was never a moment where you could fully let your guard down, so the minutes seemed to stretch into hours. You couldn't risk going for a walk since there might be enemy patrols skulking around some dark corner.

Sometimes it was enough to drive a person mad.

His thoughts kept drifting back to Mary. At the time sending her out to get Ib's rose back had seemed like the best idea, but after almost a full day without any sort of news he was actually starting to worry about her safety.

_Calm down._ He thought to himself. _It takes time to get a job like this done. She's probably on her way back right now._ The niggling doubt refused to leave.

_Besides._ He thought dryly. _Even if she was caught she would probably find a way to get out of it. Like play a game with someone's rose._

A knock at his door drew him out of his thoughts.

"Come in." He called.

As it turns out he hadn't needed to bother offering. Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, his door burst wide open and one of the dolls rushed inside.

"Garry!" It shouted. "Important stuff happening! Red says get down here now! Main hallway!"

Not waiting for him to formulate a response, it dashed back the way it came and disappeared. Staring at the empty doorway for a second, Garry rushed forward. Whatever it was, there was no way it was good.

His mind raced with any number of possible disasters that might have taken place.

Where they under attack?

Had Mary been caught?

Had Ib…

No..

_Ib's rose!_

His rush turned into a full on sprint as fear and desperation filled his limbs with burning energy, pushing him faster and faster towards his goal. Narrowly avoiding bowling over a mannequin, he skidded to a halt in front of the Lady in Red.

"What happened!?" He demanded. "Is it Ib?"

Shaking her head, Red pointed down the hall at a congregation of their forces. "See for yourself." She told him.

As Garry pushed his way forwards he was greeted by the last sight he could have possibly expected. Standing in a circular formation, a group of mannequins and dolls had surrounded another doll and were keeping him in place with an assortment of brandished weaponry. It took several moments before he recognized the captive.

Thomas.

Even more shocking than the reappearance of the treacherous toy, was the items he had laid out in front of him. An old book and a strange box had been stacked neatly at his feet, but they were vastly overshadowed by the other two items.

Placed on either side of Thomas were two roses. One red and one yellow.

Garry felt a dark rage begin to build in his chest as he looked upon the scene. "You…" He snarled. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Thomas's head shot up at the sound of his voice. "Oh, Garry." He stammered nervously, as he shifted from foot to foot. "I-I just got to thinking that you've been here for a full nine years and I never once got you a birthday present. Uh… so… surprise?"

Before Garry could decide how best to go about stomping the doll into a hairy paste, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the halls behind him. A very out of breath Ib stopped next to him.

"What's going on?" She gasped between breaths. "I came as fast as I could bu-" Her sentence came to an abrupt end as she spied their new guest.

"You! Where did you come from!? Wait, that's Mary's rose! _What did you do to her!?"_

Thomas quickly backed away from the enraged girl, feeling much safer facing the armed mannequins than enduring her anger.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hang on a second!" He pleaded. "I didn't hurt her! Veil did, I stole her rose back for you see? I even got your rose too. I'm helping aren't I? That has to count for something doesn't it?"

"_Helping?"_ Garry scoffed. "You're the one that caused this in the first place!"

"Garry, look." At the pleading tone, Garry turned away from the doll to see what Ib was referring to. Gently, she held the yellow rose in her hand and it didn't take long for him to see what the problem was.

The rose had wilted significantly, now holding only four of its original ten petals. Even as he watched, another petal withered up and fell to the ground.

"We need a vase! Now!" He shouted at the assorted gallery inhabitants. The Lady in Red quickly worked her way forward. "Give it to me." She said. "I know where all the vases are." Ib didn't waste time. She handed over the rose and Red was off, moving at a speed that defied her lack of a lower body.

With that taken care of, Garry turned back to Thomas. "This is your one chance to give me a reason not to tear you apart. Just what the hell happened out there?" He demanded with a glare.

Decidedly unhappy with the whole situation, Thomas began his explanation. "Well, as it so happens your little friend got herself caught. I don't know what she was doing, but she wasn't sneaky enough to take Veil by surprise. Speaking of which, did anyone ever tell you that you look just like him when you're angry?" As the silent glares deepened, Thomas squirmed uncomfortably.

"She was in pretty bad shape, so I'm guessing she did something crazy like attack Veil directly. Trust me when I say that is _not _a good idea. Anyway, I guess you could say I had a bit of a change of heart when I saw her get dragged away. So I broke into Veil's private office, which was guarded by at least a hundred of those freak soldiers, worked my magic on the traps, stole back your roses, and snuck past his entire army all to try and make up for my mistakes. See? I'm a good guy here."

Garry had far too much experience with the dolls to believe a single word out of Thomas's mouth. "You and I…" He said, crossing his arms. "Are going to have a very long talk about what _really _happened." Turning to the mannequins, he gave a signal. "Tie him up and bring him along. We're going to discuss this in the war room."

Turning away to the sounds of Thomas's protests, he began the walk back to his room. He would need to take a few minutes to clear his head before questioning the doll. He was going to find out everything Thomas was hiding no matter what it took.

He might even enjoy it.

Just a little.

* * *

Ib picked up her rose and watched as Thomas was dragged away. For a moment she made as to follow Garry and help with the questioning, however her desire for information lost out to her worry for Mary's safety. Turning around, she began to follow the path that the Lady in Red had taken.

She had only taken a couple of steps when her foot bumped into something. Looking down she spied the other two objects Thomas had brought with him in his attempt to win back their good graces. By the look of things it seemed they had been forgotten in the wake of the roses.

Sighing, she bent down and picked them up. _You never know._ She thought. _They might come in handy._

Not waiting another second, she set out after the Lady in Red.

It didn't take long to find the painted woman. In her hurry to restore Mary's rose, she hadn't bothered to close the door to the room she was in. Ib quickly stepped inside to see if everything was all right.

As she spied the rose, she let out an audible sigh of relief. It was placed in a glass vase that must have contained water, and now was back to its full bloom of ten petals. Hearing her, Red turned around and gave her a motherly smile. "It's all right." She said. "The petals aren't falling anymore. Whatever was happening has stopped."

Her words were only slightly reassuring. After all, the fact that whatever it was had happened at all was a very big problem.

Seeing her conflict, Red decided that it might be best to give Ib some alone time. "I'm going to go see if Garry needs help 'questioning' Thomas." She said with a slight edge in her voice as the name left her mouth. "If anything happens just shout and I'll be right there."

Ib nodded mutely as she left.

After a little while of standing there silently, she walked over to the table with the vase and sat down on the floor next to it. There were several chairs in the room, but they were all too far away from the table and she couldn't be bothered to move them right now.

"You weren't supposed to get caught…" Ib whispered softly. Sitting there, she began to feel painful lances of guilt burn through her stomach. This was her fault. _She _had been the one who slept blissfully unaware of the thief stealing her rose. _She _had been the one who didn't stop Mary when the plan to get her rose back had been debated.

If something happened to Mary now…

Ib needed to do something to take her mind off the painful emotions that roiled inside her, but what could she do?

She couldn't charge off after Mary, no matter how much she wanted to.

She wanted no part in Thomas's interrogation, even if he was the cause of all her current problems.

The thought of going back to work on the spear made her want to bash her own head in with a rusty mallet.

Groaning, Ib realized that there was simply nothing she could do to help her sister at the moment.

It was then that she thought of the two items she had brought with her. There had to be something special about them didn't there? If Thomas was telling the truth, then they had belonged to Veil. At the very least they might be able to distract her long enough for their next move to be planned out.

Ib decided to examine the lock-box first since it might just hold something important.

Turning it over in her hands she didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. It was made of plain metal, and when she shook it there was a light shuffling sound inside. The only strange thing about it was the lock on the front. There were a series of numbers organized with dashes in between them and a button to trigger the opening mechanism. This in and of itself wasn't strange, the odd part was the arrangement of the numbers. For some reason they had been built in an asymmetrical fashion.

00 – 0 – 00 – 00

Did the numbers stand for something? Was it a date? A name? Ib didn't have the slightest idea, but had the feeling that they were more than just random numbers. Unfortunately, without knowing the secret of their code she had no way to open the box.

Placing it to one side, she focused on the book instead. Its cover was worn through years of use, and it lacked any kind of title or descriptive markings. It was clear that Veil had read through the book many times in the past, which begged the question what did he read?

Despite the gravity of the situation Ib found herself giggling at the mental image of Veil locking the doors to his private study, and eagerly opening a copy of The Princess and the Pea.

Opening the cover she took a look at the first page.

It wasn't a children's story.

Ib's heart began to race as she realized what the book was. The old pages contained neat handwriting that seemed unnaturally precise.

Veil had used this book as a journal.

For an instant, Ib was consumed by the desire to slam the book shut and hurl it as far away as possible. She did _not_ want to know what kind of things Veil wrote about in his free time.

Her fear was suppressed however, when she realized how important this could be. The book might contain secrets to Veils strategies. His plans. His strengths.

His weaknesses.

Even if it didn't, it would give them a glimpse into the way his mind worked. _Know your enemy._ Ib didn't remember where she had heard that quote, but it seemed especially relevant right now.

Slowly, she began to read.

.

_This is to be the first in what will likely be several entries to my latest attempt to stave off the madness of this place. I refuse to become a jabbering dolt like that incessant child._

_With each passing day I can feel my mind fray at the edges. Up until this point I protected myself by replicating the works of Geurtena on my own canvas. This worked fairly well up until I simply ran out of things to paint._

_Now I am forced to take actions as demeaning as these. Writing my thoughts down simply to be sure they are mine._

_Still, it could be far worse. Mary is becoming more and more dysfunctional as time goes on. By now, all she ever talks about is the outside world. It is entertaining in a way, watching someone descend into madness right before your very eyes._

_We will just have to see if this exercise can shield me from such a fate._

_._

Ib paused for a moment to consider what she had just read. Veil had existed in the gallery long before either she or Garry had arrived. That meant he wasn't some new horror that had sprung into being after their last trial. Why hadn't he shown himself earlier then? Taking a breath, she turned to the next page.

.

_Perhaps her constant whining is taking its toll on me, or perhaps she is not quite as mad as I first thought. Either way, I find myself wondering about the outside world with increasing frequency._

_What does an ocean look like?_

_What does wind feel like?_

_What makes it so appealing?_

_These questions continue to plague me, but I am unable to answer them now or ever. I have become familiar with the process of leaving the gallery thanks to my irritating neighbor. It involves taking the place of a human on the outside, which sadly requires a human form. _

_Something I don't have._

_I have put much thought into solving this problem, after all a body of paint can be modified by whoever has the skill to do so. Sadly, while I am capable of changing myself I have no physical form to model my new body after._

_I will NOT become a copy of Mary._

_I will give further thought to this matter later. I am finished for now._

_._

He needed a body… That explained why he looked so much like Garry, but it didn't tell her why he was so keen on killing him. Ib continued reading.

.

_I must admit writing is becoming a rather enjoyable aspect of my time here. Particularly when I have something as momentous as this to write about. _

_I don't know how or why, but people from the outside have come to the Fabricated World. From what I have seen thus far, they are a young girl and a twenty something year old man. _

_As I write this they are working their way through the tricks and traps of this world, directly into Mary's waiting arms. The blind fools have no idea what they are in for._

_I have taken this opportunity to further my own interests. The male is not the finest of subjects, but his form is far better than that of a nine year old girl or a miniature psychopath. He will be my new model._

_He will be my new face._

_._

Ib's heart rate increased as she read. He had been _watching_ them the entire time they were in the gallery. Not letting herself dwell on the creepiness of the situation, she turned the page.

.

_I have done it._

_I have succeeded in modeling myself after the man. I believe his name was 'Garry', not that it matters now. Mary killed him._

_It was a fairly touching image seeing that little girl weeping over his corpse, before fleeing this world entirely. It's a pity, had something delayed her just a bit longer I could have lured her away to secure my own escape._

_It doesn't matter all that much. I have heard rumors of Geurtena's final gift, and I'm fairly sure that it is a way out of this place. If a maddened child can escape, then so can I._

_Maybe I will pay Mary a visit on the outside…_

_._

A way out. Ib reread that line several times to make sure she had not imagined it. Could it be possible that he had discovered a way to escape? He couldn't have or he wouldn't still be here would he? She turned the page.

.

_I find myself somewhat sad to say that this will be my final entry, at least in this place. I have located the key to my freedom and now I intend to use it._

_It also seems that Garry was not as dead as I had assumed. Good for him then, may he enjoy his new prison of filth and squalor. _

_Goodbye my paper companion._

_._

A thousand questions burned in Ib's mind, but they were silenced when she turned the next page. All the previous entries had been careful and meticulous. This one looked as though Veil had flown into a rage while writing. The letters were harshly formed, and the paper had been torn in several places.

.

_WHY WON'T IT WORK!_

_I have gone to the exit! I have done everything needed! Yet it still won't let me leave!_

_Is this some trick? Some final mockery of Geurtena's?_

_ARE YOU MOCKING ME YOU FILTHY CORPSE?_

_I will find you Geurtena! I will find you and tear your rotted bones into splinters! I will take such vengeance that the devil himself will weep at the sight of your broken remains!_

_I WILL NOT BE DENIED!_

_._

Ib had to wait for several minutes before she could work up the nerve to turn to the next page. Disturbingly enough, it was back to the neat and orderly handwriting.

.

_I have erred in my judgment._

_I see now that taking the man's form was a mistake. In doing so I have created a link between the two of us that keeps me from leaving. So long as Garry lives, I am still trapped._

_I have no idea how durable my current form is so I am not willing to risk a direct confrontation. Instead I have begun building an army. They are neither smart, nor skilled but they have no need to by. They obey and that is enough._

_With them I should be able to kill Garry and secure my freedom._

_At least, that is the plan._

_._

So that was it. Garry was keeping him trapped simply by existing. Ib couldn't help but smile a bit at that. Even unintentionally, Garry was still keeping them safe from the gallery. Stretching her shoulders, she turned another page.

.

_This is proving far more difficult than I anticipated._

_My show of force should have crushed any thoughts of resistance from the other gallery inhabitants, but instead it has caused them to rally together with that blasted Garry as their incompetent leader._

_Even so, I have learned several important things. _

_First is my own lack of mortality. I have taken the field several times, and my new body has yet to disappoint me. Their weaponry can't inflict even the slightest scratch._

_Second is something about the link he and I share. It is doing far more than simply keeping me here it seems. I didn't notice it at first, but the link seems keen on drawing us together. More than once I have found myself walking towards their fortifications without thinking about where I was going._

_While I doubt he will be foolish enough to let the pull get the better of him, it has raised several questions in my mind._

_Perhaps I can use this link to draw someone on the outside into the gallery._

_And I think I know just the person to tip the balance of power in my favor._

_._

_Draw someone on the outside…_ It had been him. She had suspected as much for a while now, but the confirmation left her cold. Turning to the next page, Ib was greeted by the shortest and most disturbing entry yet.

.

_She is here._

_As I write, my new assassin stalks the halls outside my home looking for her sister's rose._

_I simply need to show her who the master is._

_It's time to finish this._

_._

Ib shakily got to her feet. The rest of the book was blank, but what she had read so far had instilled a terrible sense of dread in her system.

She needed to find Garry.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters**

* * *

The silence in the room had become almost a physical presence. Not one of the four dared to speak for fear of shattering the very air around them into tiny pieces. All eyes were trained on the tattered book in between them. Ib raised her unsteady gaze to Garry in an attempt to gain some measure of reassurance from him.

He looked just as thunderstruck as she had been.

Veil had known.

Every step they had taken had been predicted and manipulated by his hand.

He pulled them back to the gallery.

He drew Mary away from them with Ib's rose.

And now…

Ib suddenly found it very difficult to breathe. How could she possibly worry about something like drawing in air when her sister was in the hands of a monster?

Red was the one to break their collective silence.

"Care to explain?" She asked, glaring at the only person in the room who was currently restrained. Thomas jumped at her voice before formulating a response.

"W-Well, it sounds like you found some pretty important stuff." He replied. "Some pretty important stuff that _I _brought you." The addition was largely ignored.

When Thomas had been tied up, Garry and Red had taken on the job of interrogating him personally. Much to Red's disappointment, he had proved to be very cooperative. It seemed as though he had no problem handing over whatever he knew about Veil's plans, which admittedly wasn't all that much.

This had all changed when Ib burst in the door and, quite literally, shoved the book in Garry's face. It had been a view into the inner workings of their enemy. Frustratingly enough while it answered a few questions, it raised far more.

"The last page." Red began. "He was talking about an assassin. I'm assuming that means Mary?" Thomas did his best to shrug through his restraints.

"Can't think of who else he would be talking about." He said. "After all, she killed mister tall, timid, and terrified once already."

Red looked as though she was going to be sick. "We'll have to prepare then." She said. "Garry, she'll be coming for you so we need to keep you under watch. If you die now things will go from bad to much, much worse." Garry nodded numbly at her words, hardly seeming to hear her.

Ib could hardly believe what she was hearing. "Have you all gone _insane_!?" She cried. "This is Mary we're talking about! She's my sister! She won't turn on us!" Garry continued to look down while Thomas did his best to avoid her glare. Red was the only one who met her gaze directly.

"Ib…" She began. "_No!" _Ib cut her off. "She isn't like that anymore. We need to focus on getting her out, not hurting her more!"

"If she thinks your life is in danger then there's no telling how far she'll go. Veil won't let her know he doesn't have your rose anymore." Red replied.

Ib could feel herself shaking with rage. "You're wrong." She hissed through gritted teeth. "Mary will see through it. She won't hurt us just because Veil lied to her."

"Believe me Ib, I really wish that were true." The sympathy in her voice did nothing to soothe Ib's outrage. "But I know Mary, and I know Veil. I know how this is going to turn out."

She did not just say that.

"You _know_ her…?" Ib's fingers curled inward, her nails digging painfully into her palms.

"You KNOW her…?" Red refused to drop her eyes as Ib's glare intensified.

"You don't know anything about her you heartless BITCH!" Thomas and Garry both visibly flinched, though whether it was due to her language or the amount of venom in her voice she couldn't tell.

"I'm the one who she grew up with! I'm the one she ran to whenever she was scared or hurt! I'm the one who snuck out of school to keep her company when she broke her leg! Where were you when all this was happening? Oh, right you were stuck in here playing hide and _go die_ with whatever poor idiot got dragged in next. I would kick your ass for even suggesting that you know her, _but you don't have one!_"

The room went deadly quiet after that. Garry stared openmouthed at her while Thomas tried to make himself as small as possible. Ib didn't pay any attention to either of them, as her focus was directed solely at the Lady in Red. There was a cold edge in her eyes, but Ib refused to take back any part of her outburst.

"How old are you Ib?" She asked with an eerie calm. "Eighteen? Nineteen? Something like that?" Ib nodded slowly. "You've known Mary for about nine years now. Would you like to guess how long I've known her for?" She sincerely didn't want to guess.

"I have known Mary for well over a hundred years. I have seen her at her best and at her worst. I know every little dark secret and hidden fantasy she has. I have spent _my entire life_ looking after her while she struggled through the gallery. I have always loved Mary as if she were my own daughter, and the day she left with you was one of the most painful ones I have ever experienced. But I was happy. Do you know why? I was happy because I knew she finally got what she wanted. I want nothing more than to see her happy, but that doesn't mean I'm ignorant enough to blind myself to her imperfections. She is unstable, and in Veil's care she could easily be turned into a weapon. We can't afford to be caught unprepared."

"It won't come to that." Both of them started as Garry's voice interrupted. "It won't come to that because we are going to get her out before it does." His eyes contained an unwavering determination that was enough to silence Red's noise of protest.

Realizing that nobody in the room was going to be listening to her logic any time soon, Red changed the subject with a sigh. "What about this other stuff?" She asked Thomas. "He was talking about a way out. I know for a fact that the only way out is by replacing someone on the outside."

The doll just shrugged. "Beats me. I wasn't exactly important enough for him to share his secrets with."

"What about the link he mentioned?" She persisted. "He said something about using it to draw in Ib, but that wouldn't work would it? Wasn't his link exclusively with Garry?"

This seemed to have a much more significant effect on him. "Uh, yea… But that doesn't mean _another _link can't be made." He looked decidedly nervous about the subject.

Red wasn't in the mood to deal with evasiveness. "Does that mean he's linked to Ib now or not?" She demanded, giving him a hard look.

"N-Not exactly." Thomas replied, squirming uncomfortably. "He can't have a link with her since he's already linked to Garry, but that can be fixed." He paused, trying to think of the most delicate way to explain the situation.

"He may have… sort of… might have… made another you." He said, nodding towards Ib.

"Made… another… _me?_ You mean there's another one of him that looks like me?" Ib didn't want to consider what it might be like to go up against her doppelganger.

"Oh, no." Thomas reassured her quickly. "She's nothing like Veil. Heck, she's hardly even alive at all. I can't tell you much about her other than the fact that she lives in a dingy little cell, and has been refusing to help Veil ever since you arrived."

"Why is that?" Red questioned with a frown.

Thomas shrugged again. "You'd have to ask her, not that it would do any good. I had the misfortune of being her caretaker a few times and she never once said a word."

Ib, Garry, and Red all silently pondered what the implications of this could be.

After a pause, Garry shook his head and brought them back to reality. "We can't keep going on like this." He said. "We need to start thinking about getting Mary out, and finding a way to get the two of you home."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Red asked. "Mary already tried to sneak in, so sending someone else likely wouldn't work out very well. Not to mention Veil has an entire army at his disposal to deal with any force we send."

"So do we." He said quietly.

Red stared at him in disbelief. "You can't possibly be suggesting-"

"I _am _suggesting that." He said, cutting her off. "We've been stuck in a stalemate for too long. If we stay like this Veil will have all the time in the world to play his little games while we get picked apart by his forces."

Red pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Garry we don't have enough soldiers." She said. "Attacking him directly is suicidal, not to mention he still has Mary. What's to stop him from using her as a way to force us into submission?"

"He won't be able to." Garry explained. "While our main force is attacking the front we send someone in the back to break her out. They would even have a shot at hitting him directly, and I'm willing to bet the cloth men wouldn't put up much of a fight without their leader."

"Who would we send?" She asked, convinced Garry had finally lost it. "Nobody here would stand a chance against him alone."

"Who do you think we would send?" All eyes immediately turned to Ib.

"No. No! Absolutely not!" Red said. "She doesn't know the path, and she wouldn't stand a chance against him."

Garry gave a humorless chuckle. "Oh come on Red." He said. "She took the worst the gallery could throw at her and beat it all, and that was when she was nine. Out of all of us, she's proven herself more than capable of handling killer paintings. Besides…" Garry reached into his coat. "She'll have a secret weapon."

Pulling out a small object, he tossed it through the air towards Ib. It shined briefly in mid-air before she caught it and took a better look at what it was.

Her breath caught in her throat as she saw it.

"Where the hell did you get _that_!?" Red asked in horror.

Garry just smiled. "I hung onto that lighter since I was first stuck here. Recently I've been keeping it in case I ever ran into Veil face to face. He might be able to take a lot of punishment, but I'll bet he isn't fireproof."

With trembling fingers, Ib traced the G on the front of the small metal object. A sense of nausea hit her as she remembered how much Mary hated fire, but it was quickly erased. She could use this to help free Mary, and get rid of Veil.

Permanently.

Red interjected again. "She still doesn't know the way." She argued. "This is too dangerous a job to be going in blind."

Garry leaned back against the wall with a satisfied expression on his face. "Then I guess it's a good idea we have someone who is very experienced at sneaking in there." For a second confusion coursed through Red's features before realization hit her.

"_Him?"_

"_Me?"_ Thomas shrieked. "No way! I'm never going back there, do you hear me? Do you have any idea what Veil will do to me if he catches me again?"

Garry stepped up to the tied doll and leaned down until he was right in Thomas's face.

"Do you have any idea what _I'll _do to you if you don't?" He asked. "You want to make up for your mistakes? Well here's your chance to do it."

"Garry you can't be serious!" Red exclaimed. "He already betrayed us once, are you really going to trust him with Ib's safety now?"

"No." He stated flatly. "I'm going to trust in her ability, and his understanding of what will happen to him if she gets hurt."

"This is utterly insane." Red stated, shaking her head. "Ib, you don't have to do this. Just tell him it's too much and we'll find another way." She pleaded.

Ib still hadn't looked up, her gaze was fixed on the lighter in her hands. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face Garry.

"Where do we start?"

* * *

Garry let out an enormous sigh as he sat down in his chair. The past few hours had been filled with hectic movement and energy as the inhabitants of the Fabricated World prepared for the attack. Weapons were distributed, orders were given, and soon they would all be ready to finish this.

Not once during all of this had he even paused to stretch his sore muscles, and now he was paying for it.

A knock at his door caused a groan to escape from his battered form. "Come in." He said, trying to imagine what was so important that the officers couldn't handle it. He was more than a little startled to see that it was Ib's head that poked through the door.

"Ib." He called. "Is something the matter?" This was the first time he had seen the girl since they had left the interrogation room, and she seemed fairly nervous.

"No, no, nothing's wrong." She assured him. "There was just something I wanted to give you before tomorrow. Hold on a second." With that she disappeared back outside the door. "Close your eyes." She said.

Wondering what she could possibly be doing, Garry decided to humor her and shut his eyes. "Ok, their closed." He called.

All he could hear was the sound of the door opening, and a few muffled grunts as Ib lifted something into the room. "Can I open my eyes now?" He asked.

"Not yet. Just a minute." She replied. He waited for a little while longer, and heard her steps as she worked her way up to him. "All right, you can open them now." She told him, with a tremor of uncertainty in her voice.

Not knowing what to expect, he opened his eyes. The sight that greeted him took his breath away. Ib stood directly in front of him, and in her hands…

Was the single most ornate spear he had ever seen.

It had been painted a mixture of reddish-gold along the shaft, and each swirl was decorated with a blue rose. The detail didn't stop there either; each rose consisted of at least a dozen different shades of blue, all melding together until it was impossible to tell where one ended and another began.

Despite being so well designed, it was clear that this was not just for show. Ib had thickened the end in order to give it weight during a stab, and it's tip looked far sharper than anything he had made during his time in the gallery.

"I-I've been working on this for you, but I had some trouble getting it just right." Ib looked down nervously as she spoke. "I thought that since you would be leading us, you needed something a bit… fancier than what was stashed in the armory. D-Do you like it?"

"Ib…" He said with a shaky voice. "This is incredible. Where did you learn to do this?"

She blushed self-consciously at the compliment. "Well, I guess I took a bit of an interest in art ever since I left the gallery." She said. "Mary even got me a sketchbook once. And…" Her sentence drifted off as tears stung her eyes.

Garry rose up from his seat and wrapped his arms around her slender form. "It's ok Ib." He said. "We'll get her back."

Ib sniffled against his shoulder as she tried to hold back her tears. "What if it's too late?" She asked, giving voice to her fears. "What if something happens to her?"

"She'll be fine." He said gently. "Her rose is still intact, and we're not going to give Veil a chance to hurt her anymore."

The two of them stood there, each drawing strength from the other.

Whatever was coming, they would face it together.

* * *

How long had it been?

Mary couldn't tell.

All she knew was the crushing sense of terror that infused itself into every fiber of her being.

"I can't…"

She couldn't kill Garry.

"I can't…"

She couldn't let Ib die.

Never in her life had she felt so utterly helpless.

_If only two of us could leave this place, who would you choose?_

Her words came back to her with an agonizing jolt.

Who would Ib have chosen if she had known Mary's secret?

Who would she have chosen if she saw Mary now?

Mary couldn't even curl up into a ball and cry due to the restraints holding her in place.

Was this normal? Would a _real_ person be feeling this kind of horrible conflict in a situation like this? Or was it just another cruel mockery of what being human was.

Obsession…

Mary wanted it to be a lie. She wanted to cast away any doubt about what she felt for Ib. But how could she when she didn't know what the difference was between the two?

Had she ever really felt anything for Ib beyond her own desires?

"I can't…"

She had already exhausted her tears when the cloth men had finished with her. Now, she wished that they had never left. The pain of their claws was physical at least.

It was real.

She didn't react as the door to her prison creaked open.

She didn't react as a tall figure walked inside and knelt down in front of her.

It wasn't until his finger gently caressed her cheek that she finally looked up.

Veil looked back with his cruel smile.

"It's time Mary." He said, undoing her restraints.

"Time to get to work."


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters**

* * *

At the edge of Veil's territory two cloth men stood guard against anyone foolish enough to try and enter. Normally this job was a long and dull affair, not that it mattered to the cloth men who lacked the ability to feel boredom or fatigue, but that was about to change in a very big way.

As their eyes slowly scanned the barren hallways, they were suddenly drawn to a burst of movement. Standing at the end of the hall was one of Garry's dolls.

"Hey dummies! You looking for something?"

The cloth men were off like a shot, homing in on their target. With a lilt of mocking laughter, the doll dashed back down the way it had come and out of sight. As they rounded the corner, the cloth men were greeted by the sight of an empty hallway.

The doll couldn't have gone far, so they began rushing headlong down the way it must have run. They were halfway down the hall when doors burst open on either side of them, and a small army poured forth.

Despite being far larger and more powerful than any of Garry's soldiers individually, the cloth men hardly had time to react before their ambushers hacked them to pieces. Brackish blue blood pooled on the ground as their unnatural lives ended.

Stepping forward, Garry gave the bodies several experimental pokes to ensure that they weren't getting back up. After he was satisfied that they were staying down for good he turned his attention to the force he was commanding.

All around him stood mannequins who held themselves motionless in anticipation of his orders, and dolls who brandished their knives with a sadistic glee.

When it had been made clear that Red wouldn't be able to talk Garry or Ib out of the attack, she had taken to planning out the strategy they would employ. '_If you're going to kill us all._'She had said. '_Then you're going to do it right._'

Garry had command of the forward force. It was their job to prod the enemy where they were weakest until Veil realized what was happening and organized for a counter-attack. When that happened he had to fall back and regroup with Red's force, and prepare to entrench themselves against the enemy.

Though he would never admit it to her face, Garry thought it was a marginally better plan than his 'rush them down' strategy.

All the while, Ib would be sneaking past the chaos he was creating to free Mary before it was too late.

Garry turned to his soldiers and gave the command to move out. Without any further hesitation, they began the attack.

* * *

Deep inside his personal fortress, Veil let out an amused chuckle.

He saw his forces come under attack by Garry's troops. He felt the sting as they fell to the invader's blades.

What they failed to realize was that they couldn't take him by surprise. Each cloth man was a part of him. He saw through their eyes, and he knew that Garry was taking a personal hand in the fight.

This was going to be too easy.

Speaking through the link he shared with his creations, Veil organized the cloth men into a battle formation. He still left just enough scattered patrols for Garry to ambush so the deluded commander wouldn't realize anything was wrong until it was too late.

Veil rose from his throne and swiftly crossed the distance to the main door. As he opened it, his favored guard turned to face him.

"Ravager." He said, speaking to the gargantuan creature. "I will be leading the assault on their main force. Take a troop of cloth men and meet Garry directly. Kill him."

A dark, rumbling, laugh escaped Ravager's throat. At a nod from Veil, he set off to crush his master's enemy once and for all.

Veil watched him go for a moment. Earlier today he had been in a bad mood thanks to Thomas's irritating betrayal. Now however, he could hardly imagine being upset.

All of his targets were delivering themselves right to his doorstep, foolishly believing that they had a chance of winning. How did the saying go?

_Like lambs to the slaughter._

He heard quiet footsteps as another figure stepped up behind him.

"You know what to do Mary." He said without turning around. "Don't disappoint me."

She left silently to ensure that, no matter what happened, Garry wouldn't be leaving this place alive.

It was a good day.

* * *

"How much farther?" Ib asked, clinging to the shadows while Thomas consulted his mental map of the area.

"Shouldn't be too far now." He replied. "So quit complaining. Someone might hear us."

Ib bit back the reply she was about to make. Thomas had made it very clear that he didn't want to be doing this, and antagonizing him while she was behind enemy lines didn't seem like the best idea.

She reached inside her cardigan and ran her fingers along the reassuring form of the lighter. She could do this. Mary and Garry were counting on her. This was just another trial for her to overcome.

Maybe if she kept telling herself that she might actually start to believe it.

If she was entirely honest with herself, Ib was terrified. From the way Thomas had described him, Veil sounded like a real monster. The fact that he looked like Garry just made it that much worse.

She couldn't dwell on the thought of meeting him for too long. Rescuing Mary was her main goal, and if she was lucky she might not even need to see Veil at all.

Ib was so distracted by her thoughts that she didn't notice Thomas had stopped until she was almost on top of him.

"Why are we stopping?" She asked as he stared straight ahead at a large door directly ahead of them.

"We're here." He replied. "And something isn't right."

At Ib's questioning glance he explained. "That door is usually guarded." He said. "There's supposed to be some huge gorilla of a cloth man standing in front of it. If he isn't here…"

"Then he's probably heading for Garry." Ib finished, with a sickening sensation in her gut.

This was bad. Garry would have enough trouble to deal with when the cloth men grouped up, and if Veil was sending his own personal guard things were going to get nasty.

"Come on." Ib said, stepping forward. "We have to hurry. The others are counting on us."

Thomas didn't budge. "Are you crazy? We can't just barge in like that! What if Veil is waiting for us?" He asked.

After a pause, Ib reached into her jacket and pulled out the lighter. "Then we shouldn't keep him in suspense." She said. "That would be rude."

Thomas groaned, but didn't protest any further. Stepping forward, Ib placed her hand on the door. He could be back there. Waiting. They could be walking into a trap. It didn't matter; Mary was back there so Ib was going in. If Veil was in the way, she would just have to burn him down.

Clutching the lighter in her palm, she pushed the door open. It quickly became clear that Veil wasn't on the other side. As she stepped into the massive room, Ib took in the images all around her. _These are the paintings he was writing about._ She thought. Despite herself, she felt a grudging admiration for the amount of detail he had put into each recreation.

This disappeared however, when they reached the other end of the room.

"What is _that_?" Ib asked in shock.

Thomas looked up to see what had surprised her. "Oh, that." He said. "After the three of you showed up, Veil decided to add you're images to his collections. Not sure why he bothered though, it's not like he needed anymore paintings in the first place."

It was more than a little disturbing, looking at an image of herself that had been created by someone who was trying to kill her. _Is this what it was like for Mary?_ She thought. _Did she feel this way about her painting?_

Ib was tempted to ignite all three of the paintings right then. _That_ would probably get the message across to Veil. Still, she supposed, it would have been an unnecessary distraction. Burning the paintings wouldn't really get them anything, and there was no telling what kind of security measures he might have in place.

"Where is he keeping Mary?" Ib asked, turning to her unwilling guide.

"Down there is where I saw him take her." Thomas said, gesturing to a metal door. "It leads down into his experimental chambers. That's the same place where he interrogates his prisoners and makes more cloth men."

Ib's heart stung at the thought of Mary being stuck down there in a dark room.

Alone.

Clenching her fists, she started forward.

It took her a moment to realize that Thomas wasn't following her. "Come on, let's go." She said. The doll didn't move. "H-How about I just s-stay up here and keep watch?" He pleaded. "You know, in case someone shows up? You don't want anyone sneaking up on us do you?"

Ib just let out a frustrated sigh. She had neither the time nor the patience to deal with his lack of courage. "Fine. But don't you dare leave me here." She said, entering through the door. She didn't bother waiting for his response.

The first thing she noticed about Veil's torture chambers was the disturbing lack of noise. Logically speaking, if he was keeping people down here then they would be making sounds wouldn't they? But there was nothing.

Just empty silence.

Ib gulped in an attempt to calm the unease she was feeling. "Mary?" She called, in the hope that her sister would be able to reply. "Can you hear me?"

There was no answer.

Running her thumb over the lighter, she began moving forward to search. The first several rooms she passed contained very little. The most noteworthy of them held an empty chair that had a pair of manacles attached to the arms.

As she was passing another door, she caught sight of something inside. On the far side of the room, a small figure lay sprawled out on the ground.

"Mary!" Ib cried in relief as she darted forward. "Come on, I'll get you out of here. I was so worried when I heard-" Her sentence came to an abrupt end when she got a better look at the figure.

It wasn't Mary.

Ib could only stare in horrified fascination at her double as glassy eyes stared back. The other girl looked like a corpse. Her skin was pale and taunt, with hair that seemed to be dry and brittle. She was so painfully thin that it looked like a light breeze would be able to knock her over. Despite all this, she was still somehow alive.

As she watched, her mouth opened. "_Ib…"_ The sound she emitted was so soft that Ib had to strain to hear her.

"Yes that's me." She replied, unsure of what to say. "You're the one that Veil created aren't you? The one who drew me back here?" A soft sigh of acknowledgement was the only response she got. Ib knew she should be upset at the girl. She had pulled both her and Mary back into this nightmare. Even so, the only thing she could bring herself to feel was a pained pity for the broken being in front of her.

"_The box._" Ib was startled out of her trance at the quiet words. "The box? You mean the lock-box that Veil had?" She asked. "What about it?"

"_Open it… Garry… Way out…_"

That got her attention.

"What do you mean 'way out'?" She asked quickly. "Do you know how to get in? Did he tell you the combination?" The other Ib let out a shuddering breath. The effort of speaking seemed to be more than she was used to.

"_It isn't Veil's… Geurtena's gift… you know her name…"_ As she spoke, her hand slowly reached into her worn cardigan. "_Now… please…_"

As she drew her hand back out, Ib's hear shattered.

In her hand was a twisted rose. It looked as though Veil had made it from the cast off petals that Ib had lost when her own rose had been damaged the first time she was in the gallery. How such a thing was possible she didn't know.

The girl's condition suddenly made more sense. The only life contained in the rose was what had been cast off when the petals had fallen. Just enough to exist, but not enough to be truly alive.

With a trembling hand, she offered the up the rose.

For a moment Ib didn't know what she wanted, but realization hit her with terrible force. "You want me to break your rose?" The girl offered a nod. "Wait! No! If I do that you'll…" Another nod. "B-But, I can help you! We can find a way to help you I'm sure of it!" The girl shook her head.

Ib didn't know what to do. "I-I still don't know how to open the box." She said trying to buy time. Anything to avoid doing what she was asking.

"_You already know her name…"_

"What does that mean?" Ib pleaded. The girl gave no response, choosing to simply stare silently begging.

"I… I…" Ib fell to her knees, unable to continue standing under the strain of what her copy was asking. Her hands moved without consent from her mind and gently wrapped around the rose petals.

"I'm sorry…" In one swift motion, she parted the petals from the stem.

There was no cry of pain. No death rattle. One moment the girl's arm was holding up the rose, and the next she slumped down to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

Ib felt a tear run down her face.

"I'm sorry." And she was. Sorry for the creature that never had a chance to exist. Sorry for the one that never should have existed in the first place.

Getting to her feet, Ib wiped away the tear and turned numbly towards the door.

She still had to find Mary.

* * *

Veil's foot crashed down on the mannequin's back with enough force to crack the floor beneath it. He was always a bit disappointed when killing them. They didn't squeal like the dolls, and the lack of blood was a bit discouraging.

Still, he supposed, they made a very satisfying crunch when you hit them hard enough.

All around him, his attack force of cloth men were finishing off the remains of Red's flank guards. With them gone, Veil's forces would be able trap Red's troops and cut them off from Garry. After that it would just be a matter of wrapping his hands around the throat of their army and squeezing until they fell.

At his signal, the cloth men charged down the halls towards the bulk of the enemy forces. As Veil started to go after them he was stopped in his tracks.

His hand flew to his chest as a searing lance of agony pierced his heart. His legs buckled beneath him as the fiery pain receded, leaving a cold sensation in its wake. The cloth of his jacket crumpled as his fingers clenched in disbelief. That pain could only mean one thing.

His pet was dead.

Slowly, his head turned back in the direction he had come. She was back there.

Ib.

Somehow she had managed to slip by his troops without being noticed. Seething rage began welling up inside him, filling the void left when the pain receded.

Hate at Thomas for compromising his assets.

Rage at himself for underestimating his enemy.

And most of all, fury at Ib for daring to destroy one of his greatest creations.

Veil set off back towards his throne room. It was time to meet Ib face to face.

She had outlived her usefulness.

* * *

"Where do you think they all went?" asked one of the dolls.

Garry didn't have the slightest clue. The tension in the air had increased exponentially over the past twenty minutes as his troop pushed deeper and deeper into Veil's territory with little resistance. Something was wrong, and they all knew it.

"I don't know." He answered. "Just keep your guard up."

Garry's grip on his spear tightened. Each time his unease got to be too much he would remind himself why he was doing this. Ib and Mary were counting on him, and there was no way he was going to fail a second time.

That was when he heard it.

Most cloth men didn't have a mouth, so they didn't scream or yell when charging into battle. Even so, it was obvious enough when they were here. Their arrival was heralded by the sound of scuffling cloth feet, and the grating sound of needles scraping against the walls.

To his horror the sound of their approach came from both in front and behind.

Then they appeared. The cloth men poured into the halls like a gruesome tidal wave, lunging directly at the dolls and mannequins. There were far too many to fight head on.

"Scatter now!" Garry shouted.

His troops didn't need to be told twice. Seeing that the cloth men blocked the main avenues of advance and retreat, they all dispersed into the smaller side hallways. The hope was that the cloth men would be too disorganized to effectively give chase to so many different targets.

Garry broke off from the main force to take a side passage directly to his right. As he sprinted away, he risked a glance over his shoulder. None of his troops had followed him, but a massive cloth man pulled away from the scrambling hoard to give chase.

The monster dwarfed even the largest of its kind, and seemed to fill the entire hall with its bulk.

Panic tore through Garry's veins as he redoubled his efforts to escape. His muscles burned as the halls on either side of him passed in a blur, but he didn't dare slow down even slightly. He continued to rush as fast as his legs would carry him until he burst into a mostly empty room.

He didn't waste any time as he dashed across the expanse and to the door of the far wall. With speed born of desperation, he threw himself at the door, grabbed the handle, pulled, and-

Nothing.

The door didn't open.

In shock, he looked up and saw an inscription on the front of it.

.

_I have white walls but no windows through which to see_

_I house the dearest of our family_

_Though many may try to get inside_

_I keep them safe while they hide_

_No intruder is allowed past me_

_My body gives them shelter up until the fateful day_

_They crack my white walls open and then fly away_

_What am I?_

_._

"Are you kidding me!?" Garry screamed, slamming his free hand against the door in frustration. Out of every path he could have chosen, he managed to find the one intact puzzle door in the entire Fabricated World.

A mocking laugh told him that he wouldn't be going back the way he came either. Turning around, Garry saw more of the massive cloth man then he had ever wanted. The beast looked even larger now that it wasn't hunched over in the hall.

As a lump of fear solidified in his gut, the creature's lip-less mouth curled up in a sneer. Much to Garry's surprise, it actually began to speak.

"_You… Die… Now…"_

Hefting his spear into a battle stance, Garry replied. "You know, five minutes from now I'm going to have a clever comeback to that. Just assume I said it now and that it was suitable scathing."

The cloth man let out a challenging hiss as it crouched down. Every muscle in Garry's body was stretched taunt, ready to snap into action at a moment's notice. Both combatants knew that only one of them would be leaving, and neither intended to fall.

After what felt like an eternity, the giant cloth man charged. Garry could practically feel the earth shudder as its massive footsteps drove it towards him.

Even though his instincts screamed at him to run, Garry remained in place until the very last second. As his opponent raised one of its massive limbs in a deadly swipe, he dove to the side and swung his spear at the beast's now-exposed midsection.

Air rushed past his head as the clawed appendage slammed into the spot where he had been standing only moments ago. Feeling his spear bite into the monster's side Garry quickly backed away to a safe distance and observed his damage.

The cloth man scratched at the minor injury for a moment but seemed entirely unimpressed with his attack. Garry's spirit sank as he realized that its skin was far thicker than that of the ordinary variety. If he was going to hurt it he would need to put _a lot_ more weight behind his stabs.

His opponent seemed to sense his weakness, as it took the opportunity to mock him again.

"_Beg… For… Mercy…"_ It commanded, a savage grin stretching across its face.

Garry didn't respond, choosing instead to get back into a battle stance with grim determination lighting his eyes.

Annoyed by his lack of despair, the cloth man hurled towards him once again. The next few minutes seemed to stretch on for eternity. Garry would dodge death by inches, relying on his speed to outmaneuver the scything talons that hunted him. Each of his attacks were largely ineffective, having yet to even draw more than a few drops of blood.

To make matters worse, he was beginning to tire.

Despite not technically being human any more, he still had human needs. Right now the need to rest and catch his breath could prove disastrous.

Detecting his slowing, the cloth man suddenly lashed out. Garry barely managed to dodge out of the way, but he landed off balance and was helpless as its other limb swung towards him.

The massive paw hit him full in the chest, driving every ounce of air out of his lungs and hurling his body through the air. His flight was cut short as he crashed into the far wall.

Pain drove away all other senses as he slumped limply to the floor. He was distantly aware that a hit like that would have been enough to tear him in half if he still had a human body. As it was, he almost wished it had. Every nerve ending in his body seemed to be exploding at the same time, overwhelming his mind with a barrage of agony.

No. He couldn't let himself fall like this. Drawing on inhuman reserves of will, Garry forced himself to his feet. His hands gripped tightly around his spear. _Ib made this for you to carry into battle._ He thought. _Don't you dare die and let Veil take it._

He saw the cloth man begin to charge. It intended to ram him into the wall and grind his body into a pulp. Taking a slow breath, Garry waited.

The creature picked up speed as its massive body rushed forwards. When it was three quarters of the way across the room, Garry made his move. He threw the spear with every ounce of strength he had left. The deadly weapon soared towards his enemy and plunged into its flesh, not enough to hurt it but enough to stay in place.

Letting gravity aid him, Garry half-fell half-rolled out of the way as the giant bore down on him.

Unstoppable force met immovable object as the cloth man smashed into the wall. Garry desperately crawled away from it, trying to recover enough to get to his feet. The beast staggered back from the impact growling, and turned to pursue him.

It didn't get far.

The cloth man's leg gave out after the third step, and it fell to its knees. Realize that something was wrong; it looked down and saw the shaft of the spear that had been driven into its body. The collision with the wall had forced it deep into the monster's cavernous chest and the important parts stored there.

The expression of shock and disbelief stayed on its face as its body collapsed to the floor and lay still.

For a moment, Garry didn't dare to even breathe. When it became clear that the cloth man wasn't getting back up, he rose to his feet with euphoric relief coursing through his veins. He was still alive.

"You did it Garry." He said to himself. "Now we need to find-"

The rest of his sentence died in his throat as he saw a figure standing in the doorway.

The icy claws of mortal terror sank into his bones once more.

It was Mary.

* * *

Thomas was getting anxious. What was taking Ib so long? Didn't she know that it was dangerous to stay here? Veil had a nasty habit of knowing when someone was messing with his stuff. He tried to take his mind off the imposing threat by pacing around in circles.

Then it happened.

The sound of the main doors starting to open was one of the most terrifying sounds Thomas had ever heard. And there were no good hiding spots nearby. In a panic, he dove under Veil's throne and prayed desperately that it would be enough.

The door opened and there he was.

Veil.

And he looked _pissed._

Thankfully for Thomas he didn't seem to notice the cowering doll. His full attention was on the door to his experimenting chambers as he quickly crossed the room and stepped inside.

"Oh crap." Thomas whimpered.

Veil was here, and he was headed right for Ib.

Things had officially hit the fan.


	13. Chapter 13

**For anyone who is curious, the answer the puzzle door is an egg.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters**

* * *

In that instant, Garry was back watching Mary run off with his rose. The rose he traded to save Ib, fully aware that it would be the last thing he ever did. The inescapable hands of the reaper were pulling him down once again.

"Mary…" He ventured cautiously. The blonde didn't react in the slightest. Her entire body was filled with tension, and the expression on her face was utterly haunted. To top it off she held her pallet knife loosely in her hand, the steel blade waiting silently to meet its target.

"I can't…" Her voice was strained almost to the breaking point. Whatever Veil had done to her had taken its toll on her sanity.

"Mary, you don't have to do this." Garry urged. "We have Ib's rose. She's safe now. You don't have to listen to anything Veil told you."

Once again, she failed to react to his voice. Either she didn't believe his assurances, or she couldn't hear him over the maelstrom of turmoil that raged behind her eyes.

"Snap out of it! Ib is looking for you right now, we came here to get you out. Just put the knife down!"

Mary's eyes wrenched into focus, and for a moment Garry thought he had gotten through to her. That hope was shattered when her grip tightened around the knife.

"I can't…"

She took a step forward, forcing him to retreat. He only managed a few steps before his back met the wall.

"I…"

Garry's mind raced as he tried to find a way out of the situation. He was already at his limit after fighting the cloth man, and his only weapon was embedded four feet in its chest.

"_Die!"_ Mary's shriek sent a massive wave of adrenaline flooding through his system.

As she charged forward, he dropped down and lunged in an attempt to tackle her to the ground. Mary however had more control over her movements than his previous opponent did, and managed to dodge out of the way.

Garry barely had time to register that he had missed his mark before a white hot lance of pain tore through his arm. She didn't give him any time to examine his injury. Clutching his wounded arm in an attempt to slow the bleeding, he frantically ran to avoid the deadly blade Mary was swinging at him.

She was fast.

Each swing would whip through the air so swiftly that he had to actively predict where it was going. Even then, he still felt shallow cuts opening up all across his body where he hadn't been quick enough.

Even as Garry tried to find a way to pacify the tormented girl, his instincts for survival were fighting to take control of his actions. Before he realized what he was doing, his good arm shot out and punched Mary across the face.

For an instant the two of them paused. It was hard to say which one was more surprised by his actions.

The moment didn't last long however, and with a howl of rage Mary renewed her attack even more viciously than before. The knife in her hand became a blur of silver death as it threatened to slice through him.

"Mary! Stop! Please!"

His words were strained by fatigue, and she gave no more sign of hearing them than she had before.

In his haste to get away from her reach, Garry made the tragic mistake of not looking where he was going. Even in death, the cloth man continued to endanger his life as its pooled blood caused his foot to slip out from underneath him.

Garry was falling.

He could practically hear Veil's snide remarks and Red's tired disappointment.

_Killed by a dead monster? How is it you managed to oppose me for so long?_

_You see Garry; I told you this plan of yours was suicide._

His back crashed painfully into the floor, and in an instant Mary was on top of him. The knife was raised above her head in a two-handed grip, ready to fall and snuff out his life once and for all.

Closing his eyes in an instinctive attempt to avoid his fate, Garry sent out a final silent message.

_I'm sorry._ He thought.

He had let Mary walk into Veil's trap. He had forced Red to follow him into the attack. And on top of everything else, he had failed Ib for a second time.

Time stretched out for an impossibly long period but strangely, Garry didn't feel the knife bite into him. Surely it didn't take this long for a blade to fall did it?

Garry built up enough nerve to crack open one of his eyes and see just how close to death he currently was.

The knife hadn't moved.

Mary still sat above him, poised to finish him off, but some unseen force was holding her back.

"I can't…"

He stared transfixed, as tears began to roll down her cheeks. The knife wavered in her hands as tremors wracked her body.

"_I can't do it!"_

Her blade clattered to the floor as she pushed herself off of him and fell back several feet. Mary curled in on herself and held either side of her head as her mental anguish poured out in broken sobs.

Garry was both relieved and horrified by the sudden turn of events. On one hand he was still alive. On the other, there was a mentally unstable crying girl a short distance away. The possibility of dying was bad enough, but when you added tears into the equation the whole thing took on an entire new level of discomfort.

Pushing himself into a sitting position with his uninjured arm, he hesitantly reached out to her. The moment his finger made contact with Mary's shoulder she jerked back as though she had been shocked. Her painful sobs died in a pitiful whimper as her eyes shied away from his gaze.

Garry came to a disturbing realization.

_She _was scared of _him._

The whole situation seemed so utterly ludicrous that he almost pinched himself to make sure it was real. Here he was, covered in cuts and bruises, half dead from his recent struggles, and yet she was actually making him feel sorry for her. The girl who had tried to kill him twice.

And succeeded once.

Well, maybe this time it was sort of his fault but still.

"Mary." He said for what felt like the hundredth time in the past few minutes. "It's all right."

Very slowly, she raised her eyes until they met his. "Y-Y-Your…"

"I'm not going to hurt you." He said. "You don't need to be scared, we have Ib's rose. Veil doesn't have it."

For a second she simply stared. When the meaning of his words finally sunk in, her eyes widened in horrified realization. She had nearly killed him to save Ib from a danger that didn't exist. Another wave of tears threatened to spill over.

Deciding that he couldn't deal with her having another breakdown, Garry quickly cut in. "He doesn't have her rose, but she still might be in danger." He said. "Ib snuck into Veil's lair to try and look for you. If you're not there…"

Hiccuping several times, Mary pushed herself up off the ground. Without another word, she picked up her knife and began to lead Garry back towards Veil's fortress.

* * *

Mary wasn't here.

It was becoming abundantly clear that her sister wasn't being held in any of the dark chambers that made up Veil's torture rooms. Ib didn't know how long she had been looking for, but the hopeless atmosphere of the place was starting to get to her.

Where could she be? What would Ib do if she couldn't find her? What if she was too late? _What if, What if, What if?_ These questions burned through her mind like a swarm of wasps, refusing to leave her in peace long enough to think up a plan.

She clenched her teeth and turned back the way she had come. If Mary wasn't here she would just have to tear the whole place apart looking for her.

Turning the corner that brought her within reach of the exit, Ib came to a sudden halt. Directly in front of her was a sinister man in a blue jacket.

It was him.

The man from her nightmares.

Veil.

"Leaving so soon?" He asked. "That's not very polite." Veil slowly began to close the distance between them. "Didn't your parents ever teach you any manners? Like how you should respect other people's property? Or did you honestly think that I wouldn't notice?"

Ib quickly brought out the lighter. "I was hoping to find you here." She said. "I came prepared." The flame instantly came to life as she flicked the switch. She took a dark satisfaction in the way it danced in direct contrast to the cold walls around her.

Much to her surprise, Veil didn't look worried in the slightest.

"_That's_ your plan?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

"Well, y-yes." Ib replied, suddenly feeling quite a bit less confident than she had a moment ago.

Veil let out a weary sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You were going to burn me." He remarked more to himself than anyone. "Tell me something, did you honestly think I was just going to hold still and let you catch me on fire?"

Before she even had time to formulate a response he lashed out. Dashing forward, his fist struck the lighter and, to her horror, sent it flying out of her hand. It crashed to the ground, with its flame going out.

"No!" Ib shouted, frantically trying to grab the metal object.

She didn't get anywhere near it. One of Veil's hands grabbed her by the back of her jacket, and threw her with more force than should have been possible.

Ib was sent careening down the hall, bouncing off the floor several times before skidding to a stop. Every muscle ached, but she couldn't allow herself to dwell on something as unimportant as physical pain.

Getting back to her feet, she sprinted forward in an attempt to slip past Veil and retrieve her weapon. His knee put a stop to that as it smashed into her midsection. This was followed up by a brutal kick that sent her sprawling back into her former position on the floor.

"I'm disappointed in you Ib." He remarked. "After all this time I had to listen to them talk about how you managed to outwit this entire world, and now you can't even put up a fight?"

After a few painful moments Ib managed to struggle back into a standing position. As she did, four red petals slipped out of her cardigan and fell to the floor.

"Oh, you brought the rose." Veil said with mocking cheer. "How kind of you, I was worried that I wouldn't be able to get it back."

Knowing she had little other choice, Ib charged him again. This time her fist whipped out in a side swipe headed for his temple. Veil didn't even bother blocking.

Agony rocketed down her arm as she made contact. Hitting him was like striking a brick wall that was connected to a mountain.

"Better be careful." He said as she reeled back, clutching her hand. "You might break something."

With the leisurely grace of one who knows of nothing other than absolute control, Veil wrapped his fingers around Ib's throat and squeezed. He was careful to let in just enough air so that she wouldn't pass out.

"It never ceases to amaze me how you people refuse to learn from your mistakes. You rush headlong into the same bad situations time and again without a second thought."

She struggled with his fingers, trying to pry it away from her windpipe, but she may as well have tried to pull apart an ocean liner with her bare hands.

"You know, this is the same way I caught Mary. Funny how that works." He said with a smile. "Though I don't think you'll be quite so lucky. I don't have any further need for you, so I think it's time to die." His hand began crushing her throat closed entirely.

"_Hey Veil!_"

Both of their eyes turned towards the voice, and Ib could honestly say she had never been so happy to see a doll in her life. Standing a short distance away was Thomas, and in his tiny hands was the lighter.

"Red, Garry, and I have been talking about you recently." He said with a smirk that only a doll could pull off. "And we've decided that the gallery doesn't need any freaks like you running around. You hear that? You're Fired!" As he shouted the last word he thrust the lighter forward.

After several moments where nothing happened, he looked down sheepishly. "Uh… how do you make the fire come out?" He asked.

Veil rolled his eyes. "Just sit down and shut up Thomas. I'll get around to killing you when I'm finished here." He turned back to Ib expecting to see her choking out her last breath.

Ib however, had no intention of giving up.

When Thomas had stepped in, a desperate idea had formed in her mind. As Veil faced her again he was just in time to see her pull back her arm.

And jam her thumb directly into his eye.

Ib was relieved (and disgusted) to find that, despite the rest of him being rock solid, his eyes were still squishy and vulnerable.

Veil lurched back, screaming in pain as he clutched his face. His grip disappeared from Ib's throat, and she made good use of the sudden intake of breath.

"Thomas!" She shouted past the agony in her windpipe. The doll got the message and hurled the lighter towards her.

With the speed of desperation, Ib caught the lighter and pushed it directly into Veil's jacket. His face turned to her with all the usual calm superiority replaced by a mask of pure hate.

She flicked the lighter on.

His arm lashed out, striking her head and sending her crashing back into the wall, but it was too late.

He caught fire.

With a howl, Veil clawed at his jacket in an attempt to free himself. By the time he managed to get it off, the fire had already spread to his painted body. The homicidal painting, ruler of the cloth men, and manipulator of those Ib cared about, could only flail helplessly as he went up in flames.

From her position on the ground, Ib observed the entire gruesome spectacle. The fire consumed Veil until there was nothing left, not even a pile of ashes to mark his passing. It was over, but Ib felt no sense of triumph. She was tired.

Tired of killing.

Veil was the second person she had killed today, and if things were as bad as Red had made her believe, than many more will have died to the talons of his minions.

Wearily, she got to her feet.

It was time to leave.

* * *

Three hours later Ib was back in the temporary room she shared with Mary.

When she had found her sister and Garry limping down the hallways side by side, she had crushed them both in a massive hug with no intention of ever letting go. The two of them had been relieved beyond words that she was all right and quickly returned her gesture.

With Veil's death the remaining cloth men simply stopped working. They couldn't function without someone directing them.

This had come as a godsend to Red's forces who were on the verge of being overrun when their enemies collapsed on the floor. At least, that's what the troops said. Red maintained that she had the situation entirely under control "No thanks to you mister abandon your soldiers in the middle of a battle".

Mary was currently watching over Garry to ensure that his injuries didn't last. No one had blamed her when they found out what happened, but it was obvious that the guilt was getting to her.

Ib, for her part, had one more puzzle that needed solving.

"You already know her name…" She repeated to herself as she turned the box over in her hands. The cryptic message hadn't become any clearer since she had first heard it. After all, names couldn't be numbers could they? None of the paintings were named after numbers anyway.

Ib let her mind drift back to the tragic meeting. Had the other girl said anything else about how to open it?

_Geurtena's gift…_

The words drifted back from Ib's subconscious. If it was a gift from Geurtena than it would have to be something to do with the gallery. Maybe-

Wait.

No. There was no way that it was that simple. If that was what it was meant for she would have found it on her own right?

Cautiously, Ib put her theory to the test.

13 – M

1 – A

18 – R

25 – Y

The box gave a slight click as she pushed the release. With trembling fingers she opened the top.

What she saw took her breath away.

Ib stowed the box under her arm and jumped to her feet.

She had to find the others.

* * *

"So I guess this is going to be goodbye." Garry said.

Mary wanted to say something back. Some words of reassurance, but nothing came to mind that would ease the tragic awkwardness of their current situation.

Even after everything that had happened he would still be stuck here in her place.

"Just take care of Ib for me." Garry asked. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak at the moment.

As the two of them shared a moment of regretful silence, Ib burst in the door. "Garry! Mary! You have to see this!" She shouted, shoving the box at them.

Too surprised to do anything else, they obeyed.

Garry couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Inside the box was a slip of paper, and on top of it was a pure white rose.

"Go ahead." Ib urged. "Read it."

Mary slowly pulled her eyes away from the rose long enough to pick up the paper and look it over. As she did, Garry saw her mouth slowly drop open and tears form in her eyes. When she had finished reading, she quickly handed it over and covered her face. Ib held her while Garry read.

.

_To my dearest child Mary._

_Each day I see you come closer and closer to creation. Each day I pour my heart and soul into giving you the perfect form. _

_Sadly I fear I may not be there to hold you in my arms when you are complete. I am an old man, and my life is all but spent._

_It pains me to know that I will never see you smile or be able to tell you how much you mean to me, but this final gift is the last thing I can give you._

_Though you were born on canvas it is my dearest wish to see you given life. And so I offer you my own._

_Take it. Do not be afraid. _

_Take this rose and use it to break through the barriers that keep you confined to the painted world. _

_Do not weep for me child. I have lived a long life, and seeing you have a chance means more to me than being remembered for what I have done. Though I may be erased, my legacy will live on through you._

_Go now, to the outside world. Find happiness, find love, and find family. Your life is your own now. Live it to its fullest._

_Your loving father, Geurtena_

_._

The letter slipped from Garry's nerveless fingers as he finished. In all his time going through the gallery, he had never once paused to consider what kind of man Geurtena was or what he had intended for his painted children.

Looking up, he saw Mary offering the white rose to him. Ib's hand resting on her shoulder.

"Take it." She said softly

He hesitated.

"_Take it._" She insisted. "I took yours to escape. Now… now you take this one. You can come back with us."

Gently, he reached forward and took the rose from her hand. As he held it, an incredible sensation of euphoria spread through him. After nine years fighting for his life, despite all odds…

He was going home.

* * *

A short while later, the three of them stood before the Fabricated World painting surrounded by its inhabitants. Many goodbyes had been said, some cheerful, some sad. Despite how much she hated this place, Ib was almost sad to leave.

"You watch yourselves out there." Red said, crawling forward to give each of them an awkward crouch-hug. "It's a big bad world out there, and you're going to have to look out for each other."

"We will." Garry assured her. "There's no way were going to split apart after this."

Thomas quickly stepped out from the masses surrounding them. "Hey, don't I get a hug? I'm the big savior after all."

Everyone in the room gave him a warning glare.

"Eh, worth a shot." He said, falling back in line.

Ib felt a tap on her shoulder, and turned to see Mary and Garry.

"Are you ready?" Mary asked.

Ib spared one last look around the room at her one-time-enemies one-time-allies. "Yea." She said linking hands with both of them. "I'm ready."

To the shouted goodbyes of the gallery inhabitants, they stepped through the painting and back into the real world.

* * *

**There you have it folks, the final chapter of Into the Breach.**

**Is it bad luck to write a story with thirteen chapters?  
**

**Anyway, I would like to say a big thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the story. You guys are awesome, and hearing that you liked the story meant more to me than you might think. **

**Its been a fun ride and I'll see you next time.**

**This is Disciple of Ember, signing off.**


	14. Epilogue

**I know I said that the last chapter was the final one, but after I posted it a reviewer by the name of** Amethyst -Guardian- Lycure **brought something very important to my attention. **

**This story needed an epilogue. **

**With that I give you the final chapter of Into the Breach. For real this time.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters**

* * *

-3 months after the second gallery incident-

"Ib, wait up!"

Ib paused long enough for the walking heap of living supplies to close the gap that had been opening between them. Somewhere underneath it all, her sister was struggling to keep the whole thing from toppling over.

"You know." She said. "This would go a lot faster if you hadn't brought your entire room with you."

While she couldn't see Mary's face, the feeling of the blonde girl's scandalized look was unmistakable. "I only brought what I absolutely needed." She said, trying to defend herself.

Ib couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Mary, its one weekend at a cabin. Not a round-the-world tour."

"Yea and the woods are _filthy_!" She exclaimed. "There are bugs, and muck, and all kinds of nasty things."

Ib smiled despite herself. Ever since their experience in the Fabricated World Mary had been unusually subdued. It was nice to have her talking again, even if wasn't quite back to her old self yet.

The walk to the cabin took roughly thirty minutes. Every time Ib would get ahead she would have to wait for Mary to catch up, or in some cases go back for her when she took a wrong turn due to her limited field of view. None of this was helped by the seemingly random twists and turns that threatened to make them both hopelessly lost.

Even so, it would all be worth it in the end.

Ib had been planning this mini-vacation almost as soon as they had escaped.

.

"_Who's this Ib? A friend of yours?" Her mother asked._

"_Mom this is Garry, yea he's a… he's a good friend of mine. He just recently moved back from… from…" _

"_I was spending some time out of the country." Garry said, coming to her aid. "It's nice to meet you ma'am." He offered his hand._

"_Oh, well, nice to meet you too." She replied shaking his hand, unsure of what to think of him. _

.

Everything about those first few days still felt fuzzy. More than once, Ib had needed to question Mary to make sure that she hadn't forgotten what had happened in the gallery. Despite her memory issues, she was happier than she had been in a long time. Mary and Garry were both here, both back together with her.

And all too soon, they had to split up again.

Nine years away from the real world meant that Garry was out of a job. When an offer finally came through it took him several states over.

It wasn't fair.

They could still talk on the phone but it simply wasn't the same. That was when she got to planning a weekend away with just Mary and Garry.

Ib wouldn't let them drift apart.

Their parents had been less than thrilled to hear her plans. Their daughters? Renting a cabin? With a strange man they hardly knew? For two days? ALONE? Hell no.

It had taken a lot of convincing, both by Ib and by Garry himself. He was now apparently a grad student from the art institute who met Ib and Mary when they enrolled in their school art program. He had left for Europe with the intention of taking inspiration from the culture and art styles that he found there. He had never gotten behind the wheel of a car while intoxicated, never engaged in illicit behavior, never took drugs, or sold organs on the black market, or worked with terrorist organizations bent on total world domination, or any of the other hundreds of things Ib's parents had insisted on knowing.

Mary had been surprisingly quiet through the whole affair. She testified on Garry's behalf when questioned, but otherwise seemed to simply stay in the background. When Ib later found out why, it was all she could do to avoid being crushed by guilt at not noticing sooner.

Ib was jolted out of her memories as Mary ran into her, causing both of them to tumble to the ground with her supplies spilling everywhere. With a cry of dismay, Mary surveyed the damage to her gear.

"Need some help?" Both of the girls shot to their feet at the sound of the voice.

"Garry!" Ib shouted, strangling him in a hug. It took a bit of persuading for her to let go of him enough to let him breathe, but she eventually reigned herself in.

"Nice to see you too Ib." He said, gasping for air. "And you, Marry. You have no idea how good it is to see you two again."

Mary nodded silently, averting her eyes from his. Garry frowned at her strange reaction, but before he could ask what was wrong Ib cut in. "Hey! Would you mind helping us carry these things to the cabin? Mary might have gone a little overboard in the packing department, and we could use some help."

For a moment it looked like Garry intended to push the subject, but a severe look from Ib told him that now wasn't the time.

"Uh, yea. Sure." He said, somewhat unnerved by the sudden change. "It's not far from here. The walk should only take a few minutes. Trust me you'll love it here."

* * *

Ib did love it.

The cabin was located on a small hill that overlooked a wooded lake. The image looked like something you might find on a postcard for a luxury retreat. She was also thrilled to learn that it had indoor plumbing. If there was one thing she had been worried about, it was having to use an outhouse during the night.

The interior was no less impressive. Polished wood was the order of the day, and every wall and floor was adorned accordingly. The cabin was small enough to be welcoming, while still maintaining enough room to house a good sized group comfortably.

That wasn't all either.

"Hey Mary, come see the bedrooms!" Ib called, with a smile. She braced herself as her sister rounded the corner.

When asked later to describe the event, Garry would be unable to define it as anything other than the single most high-pitched squeal he had ever heard in his entire life.

"_Bunk beds! They have bunk beds!" _

Mary's face was the image of pure joy as she fawned over every detail of their wood furnished sleeping arrangements. "She's always wanted to have a bunk bed." Ib explained to a very shell-shocked Garry. "Ever since we were little."

"O-Ok." He replied, trying to get his ears to stop ringing. "Can you warn me the next time she gets something she's wanted since you were little? I think she may have blown out my eardrums."

Ib just laughed and gave him a playful shove. She had missed this.

"Come on." Garry said, recovering. "Why don't we pick out a room for you next? There are at least three others to choose from and I'm not too picky about where I end up."

"I don't think we need to worry about finding me a room." She replied. "There's no way Mary will let me get away with sleeping in a regular bed when there are bunk beds around. I'm going to end up in here whether I want to or not."

Garry placed a hand over his heart in a gesture of mock sympathy. "Ah, poor Ib. Held captive by the cruel mistress that followed you home. Don't worry I'll be sure to tell your story to those you care about."

Ib rolled her eyes and shoved him again, somewhat more forcefully this time. "Just because you came back from the dead doesn't mean you get to turn into a clown."

"Great." He said, chuckling to himself. "Now you got me thinking about undead clowns while we're isolated in a cabin. In the woods. Several miles from the nearest town."

She struggled to keep a straight face as she changed the subject. "Let's go, we still need to check out the rest of the house. Mary, you want to come with us?" The blonde gave a dismissive wave as she examined the bed, apparently trying to decide whether she preferred the top or the bottom bunk.

"Guess that's a no." Ib said, tugging on Garry's hand.

A short while later, the two of them catching up on recent events in the kitchen over some hot chocolate.

"And then she says she wants _four_ hand painted copies! By the end of the week!" Garry said, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis. "This lady was crazy."

"What did you do?" Ib asked.

"Well, I had to rush the job a bit but I managed to get her all four of them." He replied. "She wasn't too happy about the quality but hey, you get what you ask for."

A small silence entered the room after he finished talking.

"What about you?" He asked after a time. "What have you two been up to while I was playing art slave to my new clients? Besides rewriting my life history for your parents I mean."

"To be honest things have been pretty dull." Ib replied. "After going through the gallery and fighting to stay alive, things like school just seem… unimportant. It's not like I'm going to drop out or anything, but I keep asking myself why should I be worried about this?"

"It might seem unimportant now but let me tell you, it won't when you're looking for work." Garry said. "I've even considered going back. It's surprising how much things can change after only a few years."

She nodded, thankful for the reassurance even if it was something she already knew.

For a few minutes they both sat quietly. Ib could feel a slight discomfort begin to build in the air. She knew what Garry was about to ask, and she dearly wished there was a way to stop him from doing it.

"So…" He began, trying to pose the question as innocently as possible. "How's Mary been?"

Fine. She's been just fine. Thanks for asking. Nothing to worry about.

"She's been a bit… quiet." Ib said, avoiding a direct answer in the hopes that he would get the message. He didn't.

"Did something happen while I was gone? She seemed troubled when I found the two of you."

No! Nothing happened. Mary would be fine. She just needed time. She would be fine. She had to be.

"Yes." She replied. "But it wasn't when you were gone. It was before that."

"Before that…" Garry repeated. Ib looked down, not wanting him to see how worried she really was.

"Ib." He said quietly. "What happened?"

She just shook her head. "It wasn't easy for me to get her to tell me what was wrong. When I did, she made me promise not to tell anyone. You would have to talk to her about it."

He sat in contemplation for a brief period.

"Is it about Gu… Geur… G…" Garry sighed in frustration as he racked his memory for the name. "Is it about the lost artist?" He asked.

The lost artist. Only Mary could remember his name entirely. Ib knew that he was the one who had created the Fabricated World, and that Garry had taken his place on the outside to escape. Even so, she couldn't remember anything else about him.

"No." Ib replied. "She knows that it was the only way to get you out. He wasn't alive on the outside anyway. At least, I think he wasn't." She wasn't sure about the exact details. Mary didn't want to talk about it very often, and Ib didn't have the nerve to push her.

"Was it something I did?" He asked.

She really wished he would stop. "No. It wasn't you." She reassured him. "Like I said, it's not something I can go around sharing."

"All right." He said, getting to his feet.

"W-Wait. Where are you going?" Ib asked in confusion.

Garry shrugged. "You said that I would have to talk to her if I wanted to know what it was so that's what I'm going to do. I can't help if I don't know what the problem is." Before he could take another step, her hand shot out and grabbed his arm.

"No!" Ib shouted. "We aren't going to do this now! This is supposed to be our time to enjoy ourselves and stick together! I'm not going to let you make her miserable by forcing her to talk about _that_."

"Make me talk about what?"

Both of them jumped slightly at the sound of Mary's voice. Her face held a guarded expression, with all of her earlier cheer gone.

"It's nothing." Ib quickly assured her. "We were just-"

"What Ib is _trying_ to say, is that I had a question for you." Garry interrupted. Ib shot him a pleading glance, begging him not to open up recent wounds. Much to her dismay, he pushed on regardless. "I couldn't help but notice that something seemed off. I wanted to know what was wrong, and if there was anything I could do to help."

Ib wanted to hit Garry right then. His heart was in the right place, but he should have been able to tell that this wasn't something you could just demand to know about.

Tension slowly began to fill the room as the silence lengthened. Mary instinctively grasped her arm as her expression became more and more conflicted.

Ib went to her side and put a hand on her shoulder. "It's all right Mary. We're not going to force you to talk about it. _Will we Garry?_" She asked, with a warning tone in her voice.

Garry didn't answer. It was clear from the look on his face that he wanted to know exactly what was going on. Normally Ib wouldn't have held that against him, but right now the three of them were supposed to be making the most of their time together. Not hurting each other, no matter how good their intentions.

After a while, Mary let out a sigh with a look of dejected resignation on her face. "Ok." She said, taking a seat at the table.

"Mary, are you sure you want to do this?" Ib asked, concerned.

Mary shook her head. "No, but he should know. I already told you so I should be fine." Her words didn't sound convincing in the slightest.

The three of them sat around the table as she took a breath. Grimacing, Mary told Garry what was troubling her.

She recounted the story of her attempt to infiltrate Veil's territory and get Ib's rose back. Both of them flinched in sympathy when she got to her failed attack on the man himself. When she began explaining what happened when she regained consciousness, it looked for a moment like she would change her mind about sharing the experience.

After a few more breaths, Mary got herself back under control and continued. Garry could hardly believe what he heard next.

She told him about Veil's questioning and most disturbingly of all, his accusations. She knew that his words shouldn't have had such a serious effect, but they refused to leave her. He had taken something precious from her with those words.

Her faith in herself.

Ever since the event, Mary had been haunted by doubts. She feared the things she felt. She was terrified of waking up one day and realizing that every sensation was nothing more than a forgery modeled after actual human emotion.

The word _obsession_ still held fast in her mind. Ib had tried to comfort her and tell her that she WAS real. She WAS Mary. Not just some painting that managed to look and act human. She was a real person now, Ib had assured, and no amount of harsh words from anyone else was going to change that.

Even so, the doubt remained.

Garry listened silently through the whole story, never once making a sound or adjusting in his seat. When it became clear that she had finished, he leaned back in contemplation. After a few moments he reached into his jacket, pulling out a pan and a piece of paper.

Both of the girls watched with questioning looks as he scribbled something on the paper.

"Here" He said, passing it to Mary when he had finished.

"What is it?" She asked as she examined the numbers he had written.

Garry scratched the back of his head awkwardly before he answered. "It's, uh, it's my phone number. If you ever need someone to talk to then go ahead and give me a call. I mean, I know you have Ib but sometimes… I don't know. Sometimes it might help to have other people listening too. Don't worry about interrupting me or anything. If you need to call then go ahead, even if you think I might be busy. Even if it's the middle of the night. I'll make time."

Mary sat in silent shock for the span of several seconds, before she carefully folded the paper up and slipped it into her sleeve.

"Thank you." She said softly, casting her eyes down. "I mean it. Thank you. I… Just…"

Garry offered her a smile. "Don't mention it." He said. "Now how about I get you a cup. We still have enough hot chocolate left over for a round or two."

* * *

That night Ib lay awake in her bunk. In the end Mary had opted for the bottom bunk, feeling more secure down near the ground.

She had fallen asleep quickly, but Ib was unable to do the same. Try as she might, the dream world remained just out of reach.

Ib knew what she needed to do.

As quietly as she could, Ib got up from her bunk and climbed down the ladder. It wasn't an easy task in the dark, but she managed all the same. As she reached the floor Ib paused for a moment, glancing at Mary's sleeping form. She looked peaceful. The stress of the day hadn't followed her once she descended into dreaming.

Smiling, Ib quietly slipped out of the door. Her goal was currently laying in the living room, but she made one quick stop on the way there.

Careful not to make a sound, Ib eased open Garry's door and caught a glimpse of the sleeping man. He lay on his back with one arm draped over his face. His other hand opened and closed unconsciously as he muttered in his sleep. She wasn't sure, but she could have sworn she heard him mumble something about a café.

With her curiosity sated, Ib closed the door and made her way to the living room.

It wasn't long before she found what she was after. Her backpack lay next to a small couch, where she had left it earlier that day. Ib quickly crossed the room to it and retrieved the items she needed.

Item one, her sketchbook. The very same one May had gotten her as a gift. It was filled with images of blue roses, but tonight she would be adding something a little different.

Item two, her sketching pencils. Without these she really wouldn't be able to do much drawing, now would she?

And item three, a flashlight. The moon was bright, but she still needed some more light to work with. Not to mention she didn't feel like traumatizing Mary by lighting the fireplace.

Ib carefully positioned her light so that it would shine on the book without her having to hold it. Once she was satisfied with its positioning, she got to work.

When she had first started drawing, Ib tended to let her mind wander. Her hands would move of their own accord and draw whatever her subconscious deemed most important. Today however, she was taking the reins. She was through letting her dreams and fears dictate her actions. Tonight she was deciding her own ending.

For hours Ib sat in the dark, working out every painstaking detail. This picture had to be perfect. Not a single shade of color, or pencil mark could be out of place.

Just as the sun started to rise over the horizon, she finished.

Ib felt a huge weight rise off of her chest as though she had just completed some massive, and vitally important task.

Signing the bottom of the paper, she gave her work a name to seal it in its completion.

With that, she set her sketchbook down and walked back to her room. There were still a few hours left before anyone would be up, and she wanted to get at least a bit of sleep before the day started.

In her sketchbook, her newest drawing shone bright in the vibrant morning sunlight.

It depicted three roses, one red, one blue, and one yellow. All of them were connected by a single red silk thread.

At the bottom of the page was this images new name.

Ib: All Together.

* * *

**Thanks again to everyone who read the story, and special thanks to **Amethyst -Guardian- Lycure **for making me write the epilogue****. You guys are what makes writing worth while.  
**


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